


Intertwined

by Jazzy_Kandra, SmashQueen (SmashQ)



Series: Wind Mage Plot Bunny Project [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzy_Kandra/pseuds/Jazzy_Kandra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmashQ/pseuds/SmashQueen
Summary: An exiled Gerudo searches for answers. A long forgotten sorcerer seeks vengeance. Tangled together by events from centuries past, their only hope for freedom is to work together, or die trying.





	1. Child of the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> A gigantic thank you to jazzy-kandra, without whom this fic would still be sitting in my hard drive.

Ruuya often longed to travel beyond the desert, again. But today, the sands, dyed red and gold by the setting sun, seemed to stretch on towards eternity. She didn’t know where, or if, they ended.

But she had one comfort: books from the green lands of tale and song. The lands that her people said were theirs by birthright, that their king, Ganondorf, would help them reclaim. Ruuya wasn’t sure that was _true_ , but well…

It was best not to speak her doubts aloud. Instead, she read on, even once the sun ducked below the desert sands. Always. Or...well...tried to. Dear Din, it was getting late.

Ruuya stared down at the tome in her hands with bleary eyes. The language written before her was not her own, lacking the curves she was so used to. She strained to make out the words and match their meanings to ones she knew. She tapped one section several times.

“Naruun? Hey, Naruun!” Ruuya called, keeping her eyes on the page. “Come look at this!”

The nightwatch, Naruun, leaned against a tall wooden post. A piece of green banner was tied to the top, one of many markers that signified this makeshift camp of tents as home. “No thanks, Ruuya,” she said, exasperated.

“Oh, come on!” Ruuya said. “I need your help. Do you think this is pronounced with a “ch” or a “kh” sound?”

Naruun groaned. “I don't _care_ , Ruuya. Why are you even trying to read that book anyway?”

Ruuya finally glanced up. Naruun still was looking away from her, staring up at the darkened heavens. It looked like it might rain tonight.

“Because it’s important! Every other day we’re told that when the desert king rises, we must be there to support his conquest of Hyrule. We should be able to say “Hello, we’re taking over your kingdom” in more than one language!” She uncrossed her legs and placed her foot next to the fire to warm her toes. “Why settle for just one tiny kingdom? Have you seen how large Calatia is?”

Naruun sighed and sat down next to her. She stabbed the butt of her spear into the sand. “This isn’t about power, Ruu. It’s to show those damned Hylians and blood traitors that they’re not better than us.”

Ruuya closed the book in her lap. “I think of this as a vital step. In any case,” she said, rolling a shoulder, “it’s about time I get some sleep. My eyes can’t take translating by firelight anymore.”

Naruun yawned. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

Ruuya got to her feet and walked away. Naruun waved her off.

The sand was cool under her toes. Nightfall had transformed the scorching desert into a freezing wasteland. The few firepits scattered around camp did well to chase off the chilly air, though only in close proximity. Inside of the canvas tents, one could usually find a lantern or a small fire besides to keep warm while sleeping. Most would be extinguished, by time or hands, before the first rays of sun peaked over the horizon.

Ruuya weaved around the many tents set up around the small oasis. Each of them were of the same uniform tan, the ends buried beneath the sand. On the northern side of the camp, a great many horses were corralled in a large covered area. How and where the wood had come from to build it, she didn’t know. Nobody knew. Supposedly, the elders of the past had haggled for the lumber, though Ruuya couldn’t help wondering who would ever trade, in bulk no less, with a Gerudo.

Knowing her people, they probably stole every last piece.

Tucking the book under her arm, she opened the door in the fence, and shut it behind her. All around were sleeping horses, solidly built and as trustworthy as any loyal sister. She deftly made her way across the pen to one particular mare, brown with large patches of white on her hindquarters. She laid on her stomach, side-by-side with another horse, sharing warmth.

“Hey, Jamila,” she whispered. “How are you feeling tonight?”

The mare pushed her snout into Ruuya’s hand. She chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a ‘good’.” Ruuya gently patted the horse’s nose. She sat down on the horse’s food trough. With a smirk on her lips, she rested the book on her lap and cracked it open. While flipping between a couple pages, she eased out a small bundle of brown stems nestled between the back cover and final page. She reached over and placed her hand under the horse’s long muzzle.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Eat it. You need it.”

After a couple sniffs, Jamila licked up the stems, eating them greedily. Ruuya smiled.

“Good girl.” She scratched behind the horse’s ear, then shuffled over to lay against her.

Head tilted up against Jamila’s side, and hands splayed on the open book, she began to hum. There wasn’t much to look at in the sky. Dark clouds blotted out the stars; a rare occurrence, but a welcome one. Perhaps a light rain would grace her home tonight. Perhaps not.

A part of her wished that the stars were out. They would give her an excuse to stay up longer, gazing upon the ancestors in the heavens, nestled against the mare’s flank. But they weren’t, and Ruuya had better things to do this night.

Grunting, she got to her feet. “Good night, Jamila,” she said, running a hand through the mare’s mane. “Love you.”

Ruuya left Jamila in her makeshift stall. The lack of light made avoiding piles of manure tricky, but at last, she made it to the fence without too much of that unmentionable substance coating her feet. The brief surge of victory compelled her to vault over the fence, instead of using the entrance like a normal person. She strolled back into camp proper, book once more underarm.

Ruuya’s heart thudded in her chest. Her grip on the book tightened.

Thievery was a way of life for her people. To pluck a rupee from a stranger’s pocket was a test of skill. But to pinch something from family was a sign of cunning. Friendly pranks and petty arguments could result in missing belongings, and Ruuya knew firsthand how much could be taken in a single night.

In-village thefts were outright encouraged on occasion. So long as everyone knew the boundaries.

Ruuya kept an even gait, ignoring the feeling of impending condemnation.

A couple of the bonfires were dying, their low flames allowing shadows to take back the evening. She avoided the light whenever possible, unconsciously stepping lightly around the occupied tents. The few sisters out on watch were stretched out around the camp’s perimeter, save for Naruun, who was set to rouse the others if any of those on watch sighted a disturbance. They were spread thin, however, for most of their best were out protecting the elders.

Sneaking through the darkened camp, Ruuya thanked the desert goddess for the thick clouds which hid both moon and stars. These were signs that a rare rainstorm would come upon their camp tonight. Due to this, the elders had left earlier, burdened with fruits, vegetables, and spices as a gift to the gods. As per tradition, a number of able-bodied warriors had accompanied them in a procession. They would be back before long, but Ruuya hoped her business would be concluded by then.

If not...she would have to face the consequences. Exile. Perhaps, death with no provisions. Never seeing Veil or Jamila again. She swallowed.

_Be brave_ , Ruuya chided herself. _May the goddess protect me and my paths…_

On silent feet, she crept behind the largest tent in the village: the chief’s. Este, one of the women on watch, had gone to relieve herself, and Naruun wasn't paying attention. As quietly as she could, Ruuya lifted a tent flap from the sands, crouched down, and slipped herself inside.

There were obvious marks from her entrance; having to pull oneself through a tight opening did that. Though on this night, she couldn't dwell on it. Her time was too short, haste was a necessity. Precaution be cursed.

The inside of the tent was dark as pitch. The illumination from the fires outside had been brief in her entrance. Now it were gone, leaving Ruuya to blindly shuffle through the tent. For a moment, she tried remembering the last time she had been summoned here, and all the small glances she had stolen through the entry flaps thereafter. Large jars and a few chests lined the back wall, she knew, and the center was dedicated to a small fire-pit where a tea kettle hung.

In the dark, she slammed her toes against something. Hard. Mentally she cursed, biting her lip. Her usual run of luck was showing its ugly face again.

For several seconds, she froze, straining her ears for sounds of footsteps, but no guards came. She bent down and felt around with her hands for what exactly she had bumped into. The surface was smooth, rounded. It came up to about knee height. The oil jar, then. That gave her a rough idea of where the three chests were. The largest held the airy and gorgeous clothing that the chieftain wore daily. The smallest was filled with dust, spices, and assorted mystic items for divining and magic. The last was reserved for precious things, a prized collection from raids passed from leader to leader.

The closest thing a tribe of thieves had to heirlooms.

They, she remembered, were lined up along the back of the tent. Clothing, spices, treasures. She may not have been entirely intimate with their secrets, but it was just enough to know their general contents. Crawling, she resumed her sneaking, taking care to not bump into anything too harshly again.

The chest wasn’t overly ordinate. It was made of a simple, yet sturdy, wicker, held shut by an iron lock. Taking two thin pins from her ponytail, she inserted them into the lock. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever lockpicked under duress. The monitored trips she’d made to Calatia in the past had almost always been full of thievery lessons. How to keep to the shadows in silence; the art of picking a potential “boyfriend” out of the crowd; maneuvering through an unknown area to safety.

And of course, how to pick pockets and locks. Usually there was some kind of time limit or multiple people around. If she tried hard enough, Ruuya could almost imagine herself in some hapless fisherman’s shack by the sea, intent on stealing his poles and bait. Or something along those lines. It was certainly a calmer image than breaking into the head honcho’s tent and pinching a centuries old book.

In a matter of moments, the lock clicked. Ruuya smiled, replaced her hairpins, and lifted the lid. She felt around inside the chest, hands running over a myriad of objects. Silks and leather, sharp statues and gambling die, coins and scraps of parchment. A pile of miscellaneous treasures.

And books. There was a stack of them in one corner, spines conveniently facing away from the sides of the wicker crate. Ruuya licked her lips. She ran her fingers over each one. A small box stopped her hand from progressing to the bottom, but that hardly mattered.

She felt out the cover of the top book, tracing the blocky letters. _The Art of Keese Cuisine._ Ruuya took the book out, and set it aside. The next few were all similarly passed over, joining the first at her side. She reached back in, expecting the same rough texture of weathered leather. Instead, her fingers touched a soft material. It wasn’t silk. Cotton perhaps? She could just make out something indented below it...

Licking her lips, Ruuya pulled on the cloth, lifting the next book a bit. The box and folded clothing surrounding it were jostled, moving up as well. With a huff of impatience and practiced skill, Ruuya carefully extracted the covered object. The box settled to the bottom quietly, and the fabrics were left more or less in their stack.

Caressing every last inch of the textile, Ruuya licked her lips again. A little knot to the side was quickly undone, and she tossed the bag away.

She felt out the tome. The leather was dried, and chipped from ages passed. The lettering was odd; not as angular as Hylian script, but not as curvy as Gerudo. She swallowed, breath held. Rubbing her fingers against the leather, she felt the letters and symbols on the cover. A circle surrounded four triangles. A faded childhood memory became sharper.

Ruuya smiled. She knew the title of the book. She could recall the day her mother, standing tall, held it over her head in victory after a raid on the green lands.

_Mudora._

Almost reverently, Ruuya held the book to her chest. She could scarcely believe it: the tome was here, intact, in her hands. Months of planning, watching, and adjusting her public attitude to match that which her sisters held. Years of waiting and obeying her superiors while ignoring the whispers behind her back. And here it was.

Carefully, she returned the other books, mind whirling with what _Mudora_ could contain. Tales of magic, tales of _Hyrule_. Of the truth that she only knew hints of in scattered visions and dreams...

Years of being kept in the dark were over. She’d finally have the answers she’d long for since childhood.

The chest shut with a soft click. Ruuya rewrapped the book in its cotton cover, and sat the one she brought with her on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she crept back towards the disturbed sands.

Ruuya heard no footsteps tread outside the tent. She lifted the flap and peeked outside. It was darker than it had been a few minutes ago, the cool light rain making it even darker than before. She slipped out into the damp night, books pressed against her chest.

Looking around, she saw no one nearby. Heart threatening to burst from her chest, she marched forward, forcing herself not to run. Running was noisy. Running was suspicious. Despite her survival instincts screaming at her to sprint towards her horse’s pen and safety, she kept a brisk pace through the village, weaving between tents and straying from the watch and the glow of their covered lanterns in the night.

A tiny thrill shot through her. Nobody had seen her! She was almost to the makeshift stable, Jamila and-

Pain blossomed in the back of her head; darkness followed a moment later.

Ruuya awoke, blinking at the too bright sunlight. Day. _Damn_ , she thought, covering her eyes. The back of her head ached like she’d been kicked by a horse.

“She’s awake!” cried an old, withered voice. A moment later, her vision was filled with a wrinkly, sunburnt woman.

_Great._

“You are a foolish girl,” said the elder. Minia, her brain supplied. She was the nicest of the bunch, though as a whole, they were a nest of rattlesnakes.

“I told you she couldn’t be trusted!” cried another, even older voice.

_Ugh. Crone's here, too._ Ruuya shook her head. Rhiun was such a grouch, always looking for something to gripe about. _Especially good if it’s me, of course._

Her eyes adjusted to the light. She was in the center of a tent, right where the sunlight streamed through the top opening. It was the chief’s tent, of course, where else? Why her - _their_ leader wasn’t here raking a traitor over the coals, Ruuya didn’t know.

“Well,” she said, sitting up, “it’s nice to know the feeling’s mutual.” She smiled wryly, and rested her hands in her lap. Her wrists were bound together by a piece of rope.

“Ruuya,” said Minia, lips pressed together. “You were found sneaking out of the elders’ tent last night. The _Book of Mudora_ was found in your possession.”

“Such a good sister, Zara,” chipped in Rhiun, clamping her hands mildly. She always looked so sinister. “She knocked you out so you wouldn’t get away. Your mare was up for hours afterwards. The poor thing was so tired this morning...” Her near toothless smile was nothing short of smug.

“Yes...” said Minia, a sigh falling from her lips. “You were clearly planning on abandoning your home and family. So tell us, why did you see it fit to not only steal from us, but assume you could get away unpunished?”

Ruuya shook her head, as if to rid herself of her headache. It only made it worse. She took a deep breath.

“I believed,” she said, “that I was owed answers, answers only found within _Mudora_. For years I asked what the dreams meant. You dismissed them; dismissed me. I was a sister - your _daughter_ -”

“Pah!” Rhiun spat to the side, waving her hand. “You are no daughter of ours.”

“That!” Ruuya cried. A fire burned in her chest, refusing to be extinguished. “That right there is what I’m talking about!”

“Ruuya,” said Rhiun. The old crone placed a hand on her shoulder as though to bring her comfort, instead, she squeezed it hard enough to leave a bruise. “Your dreams were nonsense. Our new king will not be some monster, child, nor a brute. He will lead us to rule o’er the green lands, to the prosperity which is our birthright!”

Rhiun poked Ruuya’s collarbone with a sharp fingernail.

“You are a disgrace, child,” she said, still pressing her nail against Ruuya, drawing a little blood. “You have always been a disgrace! We all dream of ridiculous happenings, but they are not real!”

Minia shook her head, sighing, drawing attention to herself. She then gently yanked Rhiun back, giving her a look. “We spoke of this several times,” she said, eyes shifting to Ruuya. “Doubt clouds your vision. The only way forward is to serve our king when he rises. Why couldn’t you perish those silly thoughts of yours and behave?”

“They kept happening!” Ruuya yelled, wishing Minia would listen. She was always far more reasonable than Rhiun. She _was_ often the only voice of reason in this whole tribe! “They kept happening but none of you ever want to listen to me! Desert winds turning from gentle breezes to perilous storms. Feral beasts tearing the land to pieces, steel reflecting light, a creature so huge and towering -”

“Silence!” Rhiun cried.

“- that it could destroy all we hold dear!” Ruuya glared at the old woman, teeth bared, eyes burning.

“Those dreams are...just dreams,” said Minia, somewhere behind her head. It sounded like she was gathering something.

Water. Pouring into a canteen...

“I believe,” said Rhiun, “it is time for her punishment, Minia.”

“Agreed.”

Ruuya grit her teeth, and stilled her tongue. She had an inkling of what they were doing. Still, a chill ran up her spine.

Banishment. At least it wasn’t death...

Rhiun spoke to someone through the tent’s opening. A sister came in, and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to her feet.

“Let’s go, traitor,” she said, then pulled Ruuya out of the tent. She stumbled, feet tripping over sunlit sands.

Outside, it seemed every sister had gathered to see this awful ritual. Confused and angered faces stared back at her. She ignored them, mostly. She had made her peace long ago.

It wasn’t as if any one of them actually cared what became of Rhiun’s wayward daughter.

“Sisters!” said Rhiun. Apparently, she was eager to get started. “Ruuya has been caught attempting to steal an ancient and sacred heirloom from us! She nearly fled to those filthy Hylians had not Zara awoken and ambushed her. Now, she stands before you as a traitor to us all! A traitor to the Great Ganondorf!”

Ruuya refrained from rolling her eyes. The woman next to her tightened her grip on Ruuya’s arms, as though she _expected_ Ruuya to jolt, of all things.

“For her transgressions, Ruuya will be stripped of the title “sister” and cast out into the wastes, just as the blood traitors did to us long ago!” Some cheered, some clapped. A few looked away as though… No, they could not be _ashamed_. Why would they be? Her mind was playing tricks on her.

Still, something in her chest tightened. This was the only home she had ever known.

Minia untied her wrists, and passed a worn bag to the sister behind Ruuya. The sister slung it over her head. Ruuya’s vision blurred; then darkened. All she could see was tan canvas.

“No weapons! No horse! She shall leave with nothing more than a day's provisions and the clothes on her back!” said Rhiun with glee. “She shall face the wastes alone.”

“Wait!” said a sister from the crowd.

Ruuya couldn't help the gasp that escaped her. Veil had come after all. She still...she still loved her, even after Ruuya had betrayed her trust.

“Please, elder Rhiun!” said Veil. “The wastes are incredibly dangerous during the day. Please allow her to ride out with a scimitar, a spear, something.”

Rhiun’s nose wrinkled. “Child, she is worse than those who cast us out. She was _family_ , and refused to treat us as such. Why should we let her go with anything more?”

Ruuya smiled, amazed. Her girlfriend’s stubbornness was admirable, and at times, frightening.

“Because I don't believe we are worse than the blood traitors,” she said, every ounce of anger filtering through her voice. Ruuya imagined Veil there, almost a head shorter than Rhiun, but still formidable, matching Rhiun glare for glare, her flaming hair whipping back in the strong breeze that brushed past. “They let our ancestors leave with blades and two mares. Even supplies! We should at least show the same courtesy...no, we ought to show more. We. Are. Better.”

“She is correct, Rhiun,” said Minia, breaking her solemn silence. “Let the girl have her horse.”

In the ensuing silence, Ruuya struggled to keep a straight face.

Rhiun glared at Minia and Ruuya in turn. “Very well,” she said, surprisingly even. “No one else around here has been able to tame that beast, anyway.”

She sent someone from the crowd away, then turned back to Veil.

“She may take one spear with her.” Ruuya kept a scoff to herself. Rhiun addressed the crowd, “Are there any further objections? ...Good.”

Veil sighed, but her shadowy form withdrew into the gathering of silhouettes Ruuya could make out through the bag on top of her head. Some began to grumble, whispering amongst themselves. Others derided her with cursing or foul remarks. A few...

Same old, same old. Like she hadn’t heard it all before.

When the woman hadn't come back, Ruuya sucked in a breath and whistled. The note was long and loud, descending and rising in three notes. On the other side of the village, a horse neighed.

“Show off,” someone muttered. It sounded like Veil. Ruuya started whistling again, and a hand was slapped over her mouth.

“Quiet!” said Rhiun. Ruuya couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face before the old Crone removed her hand. She could hear shouting and whinnying, gradually growing closer. Jamila galloped, then trotted to the edge of the gathering.

“You did say nobody else could tame her,” Minia whispered. Ruuya doubted anyone but Rhiun and the sister whom stopped her from running had heard.

“You have been granted a small mercy, this day,” Rhiun said. “Be grateful.” A sharp retort was on Ruuya’s tongue, then swallowed. Instead, she hummed, the corners of her lips lifting.

“Well?” said the sister.

“Thank you,” Ruuya said, mockingly. She purposely avoided any title.

Rhiun cleared her throat with a particularly loud “hu-hum”.

“Take off the bag, sister,” said Minia. “We need not guide her to the wastes, Jamila knows the way.”

The sister did as asked.

Minia stood nearby, glaive in hand, and nodded at Jamila who had come at Ruuya’s call. When had she left? The elder nodded to sister, and the other woman let Ruuya go. Rubbing her arm, Ruuya looked up and met Minia’s eyes. They were hard, yes, but...there was _something_ else there, too.

Perhaps an ounce of compassion. Perhaps she just _wanted_ compassion, though.

“Take these,” she said. Minia handed over the spear and a small saddlebag. Ruuya signaled Jamila to stand beside her. “May the stars guide you.”

She knew the phrase, one of luck, hope, guidance. The three things their tribe had asked for from the Sand Goddess upon their exile long ago.

She returned it in kind, keeping her voice low. “And also you.”

The old Crone’s voice broke the moment. “You have your horse,” she said, “and weapon. Be gone. If any of our sisters ever see you again, it will be your last breath.”

Ruuya hoisted herself onto Jamila, careful not to let the blade hurt the mare. Back straight, bag secured, and spear in one hand, Ruuya chanced one last look at the buzzing crowd. There, near the back, stood Veil.

Her heart ached. For a second, she regretted her choices. For a moment... Then, the wind swept it away, blowing back the past.

There was nothing she could say.

Ruuya nudged Jamila into a trot. With the crowd still within earshot, she twisted around. “My last breath,” she shouted. “shall be in freedom! Yah!” She urged Jamila into a gallop, her hair whipping in the wind.

Heart hammering in her chest, Ruuya rode on. This was it. Long had she daydreamed of escaping the confines of the village. To choose when she could leave, to set her own schedules and duties.

But now. Now she was hollowed out. She couldn’t be sure what the feeling was, exactly. It unsettled her mind, and let her thoughts adrift. She almost missed the dune and the leather straps sticking out of it. Ruuya swallowed and halted Jamila. Taking a breath, she slid off the side of the mare, and dug into the sand. Buried beneath was an old bag, packed with dried meat, and spices to ward off any creatures that may have found it.

She hung the bag opposite the one given to her by Minia, then dug deeper. A half foot down, her fingers brushed against two hilts, side by side. She grabbed them both, and stood up. A fine layer of sand still clung to the scimitars, but aside from that, they were in good shape.

Ruuya slipped them into the empty sheaths hanging from her belt. Then, with a steadying breath, she climbed onto her horse, and continued on.

She didn't look back.


	2. Never Trust a Wizzrobe

Three weeks had passed, and now, from the top of a low mountain - barely a foothill, really - Ruuya beheld a vast green country. Hyrule, the green land she had only read of in books, and heard of in songs sitting around a fire on starry nights. The land of their forebears. A light rain fell from the heavens, and relief filled her lungs as she took a breath of fresh, green air.

“This is our new home, Jamila,” she said, “odd as that is.”

The horse whinnied in reply, a strange sad whimper. A part of her missed the desert sands too, even after all that had happened.

She shook her head and nudged her mare onward, seeking the woods below. The trees here seemed so tall compared to the short desert shrubs, but she had seen larger trees in Calatia. Nevertheless, they provided some shelter from the rain, though it was even more chilly under their thick branches.

Gods. How could they stand it? She shivered, glad Minia had thought to pack a thick cloak in her saddlebag. Even still, covered as she was, she felt a slight chill on this mild spring day. Deeper into the woods she pushed her mare, however, keeping her at a slow walk. Bits of bright color sprouted from groundcover, vine, and, even, tree. Flowers, she presumed. Animals _chirped_ and _tweeted_ in the branches and underbrush. A hare skidded across their path, nearly startling Jamila. She held her reins taut, patted her neck, and urged her to keep moving.

She had never seen so much life in one place. Soon, they came to a shallow stream, cool water rushing past, weeds growing by the bank. Strange, green things croaked in the shallows. At the riverbank they came to a stop and Ruuya dug into the saddlebag, sighing as she felt inside for provisions. She pulled out the sack which had been full of dried meat, nuts, and travel bread.

Ruuya shook the bag. They were running low on human food. She only had a few days left of foodstuffs. Jamila had a mouthful of grass already. At least in these green lands she would never have to worry for her _horse’s_ well-being.

“Maybe the...slimy green things are good to eat,” she muttered, sitting on a log near the bank. Ruuya took a bite of leever jerky. She had yet to see a Hylian, or a round-eared human in her three week trek. Nor had she met one from the old tribe that had exiled her sisters. Former sisters. For all she knew, no one lived in these lands. “What do you think, Jamila?”

The horse ate a flower. Typical. Jamila was such a great conversationalist. She finished her last bite of jerky, wishing she had more left.

Pitifully, her stomach growled. Ruuya sighed.

“I like the frogs.”

Jamila started at those words, kicking the earth with her hoof. Ruuya reached for her scimitar, hand resting on its hilt. On the far bank, a wizard clothed in ragged red robes crept out of the woodwork. It had a large hooked beak, multi-colored eyes, and it held a small, ornate wand in its hand.

_Make that wizzrobe_. She’d only read about these things or heard about them in stories Minia and Rhiun had told her as a child. Her grip on the scimitar's hilt tightened. She withdrew the blade an inch.

“Get back,” she warned.

“Won’t hurt,” it said, lifting its wand. “Promise.”

Like she’d believe - a small blast of magic, red in color, shot from its wand. Ruuya ducked and closed her eyes, expecting the attack to be aimed towards her.

It didn’t even nick her.

Instead, the largest of the slimy green things fell over, dead, taken by the wizzrobe’s blast.

“I like the frogs.”

“To eat?” she asked, her hand falling to her side as her panic subsided. It didn’t seem like this particular wizzrobe was a threat. Still, Minia’s lessons from childhood returned, a flash of insight: _never trust a wizzrobe, especially one which seems kind..._

The creature nodded. Then blasted the other frogs as well.

_...or harmless._

“I can cook, too.”

“And I want to eat frogs?”

“Boss is hungry.”

Her stomach growled in agreement.

“Very hungry.”

“I’m...not your boss…” she said, squinting at the wizzrobe as it hovered across the stream, a flurry of rags. She frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Something wrong?” it asked, and gathered up its prized dead frogs in its arms. The wizzrobe ate a frog, tossing its head back to swallow its meal. Then it held out a frog for her to take. “Frog?”

“I don’t _want_ frogs!” she said, backing up on her log, slightly.

“But…are hungry?” it said, tilting its head like a particularly confused parrot. Did it not understand...?

She backed up further, running into something soft. _Cloth_ , her mind supplied. Her eyes widened. Her legs grew stiff. Her mouth, dry.

“Boss?” said a voice from behind her.

Slowly, Ruuya turned her head. Another wizzrobe sat on the log. She screamed, and in her haste to stand and flee, she tripped over the log and landed in the stream instead, splattering water everywhere.

“Boss want help?” said yet another one. She looked up. There, dressed in ragged blue robes… She crawled backed up against the log.

“No!” she cried. “Get away from me!”

The wizzrobe stared. It tilted its head. “Away?”

“We were sent to find you,” another said. It had managed to climb onto Jamila’s back. The horse bucked, tossing it off. Instead of flying off and ramming into a tree, like she expected, it floated off gracefully, landing beside the one in blue. The mare fled. Ruuya couldn’t blame her. “Why doth Master fear us so?”

“I...I don’t…” she said, feeling ill. Dizzy. Sick to her stomach. “I don’t understand!”

“Boss!?” several cheerful voices rang throughout the woods, a host of chirping wizzrobes.

Dear goddesses. Eyes. She saw bright yellow eyes in the woods, under tree and over branch, in the shadows. Suddenly several more came out from the woods, all dressed in rags, all with bird-like heads, all with wands in hand. They surrounded her. At once, the creatures tilted their bird-like heads.

“Why boss lost?”

“Boss. Boss. Boss!”

“Please…” she whimpered.

“I like the frog.”

“Boss look dazz.”

“Boss hate us?”

“Boss?” the others echoed that question.

“Stop!” she said, covering her face with her arms, tears blurring her vision.

“Silence, friends, let Master speak!” said the leader, waving its wand majestically at the others. It wore purple rags instead of blue or red. The other wizzrobes finally fell silent.

“Why are you here?” she asked, peeking over her forearms at the wizzrobe.

“We sought you,” it answered.

She shook her head. “But I swear I’m not…”

“Hmmm,” it said, beak bowed. “Perhaps...perhaps Master does not recall us…”

“Master forgot me!”

“And me?”

“Forgot like frog?”

“All of us?”

Dozens more complaints chimed forth before their leader raised both hands.

“Yes, friends,” it said. The chorus fell silent. “Master has forgotten…”

“Oh no,” said Ruuya, lifting her hands. “That’s not-”

“We must remind Master.”

In unison, the other wizzrobes gave a solemn nod.

“Remind me...how?” she asked. Ruuya wished she had bit her tongue.

The wizzrobes raised their wands. “We must send you back,” said the wizzrobe, his eyes somehow sad, regretful. “So you may recall… Go to the palace. Seek the truth. Find thy memories.”

“My...my…mem...,” she stopped, words falling flat as black magic spilled forth from the creatures’ wands, summoning a reflective pool beneath her. Ruuya screamed, but before she could move, before she could run -

“Won’t hurt.”

The pool sucked her in. Air rushed passed her ears, the world twisting around her until it dissipated and turned black. Uselessly, she closed her eyes.

“Promise.”

Falling from the sky, she slammed against the ground.

_It did hurt, frog-robe._

She blinked a few times. At least this time she hadn’t fallen unconscious. Staring up at a strange green sky filled with dark clouds and red air, she took a deep breath, sputtered, then coughed.

_The air in this place tastes dead._ _Poisonous. Where am I?_

Slowly, she lifted herself onto her elbows. Strange, she felt...short. Shorter, even, than Veil. That didn’t make sense! What kind of magic made -

Ruuya looked up, her breath caught. The forest around her had become strange. Here, the trees had faces, most staring at her with empty eyes. Their leaves looked dead, though they were still green, and their bark, snarled. Worse of all, there were no flowers on tree, vine, or among the wilted grass.

This world was dead. Twisted. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she’d find out it was all a weird dream. She’d wake up in her bedroll, Veil holding her in her arms, a kiss on her cheek to chase away her recurring nightmares.

_No_ , Ruuya thought. _This is_ real _… I’ve gotta keep going. That’s what Veil-_

Something brushed against her ankles. She turned, then stared at the fuzzy thing. It was a tail.

She had a tail. No, three. All yellow with white tips.

She was dead. She was hallucinating. This couldn’t be real; this couldn’t possibly be real!

Ruuya grasped one of the tails, and tugged experimentally. She bit back a yelp, letting go.

So, not a dream. What had those crazed wizzrobes done to her? Where even was she?

_Jamila!_ Her heart skipped a beat. “Jamila!” she yelled. “Jamila!” Ruuya’s gaze darted all around her. The trees were where she recalled seeing them in Hyrule, and there was a murky green river to her side where the mountain stream had been, flowing slowly. But no sign of her horse.

“Jamila!” she called again, voice straining from panic. Nothing. She took a deep breath, and broke into a coughing fit. She tried again, slowly, then whistled. The notes echoed loudly through the gnarled trees. Still, there was no answer, no telltale sign of hooves, no whinny in response.

Her last friend in the world was missing. Gone.

The magic hadn’t reached her, then. The horse had run far enough to safety.

It dawned on her, then, that this really wasn’t Hyrule. It was brown and decaying. A world of death. Had she passed on, perhaps? Was this the All-Waste, where those whom betrayed the sisters in life were said to abide after death?

She should have run from the first wizzrobe when she had the chance. Minia was right.

“Hey hey!” said a voice, that of a young woman. Ruuya turned around, and frowned. The young woman was inhuman: a two-legged white goat wearing a blue dress. How strange...was she a demon? “What are you ‘posed to be, a fox?”

_Considering that I'm a three-tailed fox...we're both demons._

“A Gerudo,” she answered, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. Curses. Where had it gone?

“Well, whatever, Miss Gerudo,” she said, waving her off. She had hands covered in white fur. So odd. At least she didn’t have hooves for hands as well as feet. “I saw ya fall from up there,” she pointed towards the poisonous sky. “Came through a portal.”

“Well,” Ruuya said, looking up as well, “it’s not there now…”

“So you’re from the world of light, right?”

Ruuya turned back and gasped, unable to hide her surprise. “Yes…” She took a step back.

The goat-girl nodded. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. There’s no use staying here. Better to go to the village,” she said, walking off. Ruuya stayed put, but the goat-girl looked back and frowned at her. “Most of us villagers aren’t gonna attack. Simply can’t.”

“I see.” She sighed. Well, there was nothing better to do. They crossed the shallow stream of slush.

“Some of these trees _will_ ,” she said. Ruuya looked back and forth at the snarled trees, shivering slightly. “See that one with red eyes?”

Ruuya nodded. They were bright, reflecting the strange light of this realm like twin rubies.

“Never take his apples,” she warned, lifting a finger. “Less you want to get shot at.”

Ruuya nodded again, spotting the purplish apples hanging from the trees branches. “Aren’t they poisonous?”

“What? Is _every_ violet thing poisonous in the Light World?” asked the goat-girl, staring at her incredulously. “Of course not. A few of the faster villagers snatch some of them when they turn ripe.”

“What color are the ripe ones?” she asked, her stomach growling. She was a fox-like creature, so perhaps she would be quick enough to pick one and -

“Bright green.”

“What,” she said in disbelief.

The goat-girl bahed. Maybe that was supposed to be laughter? Ruuya didn’t know. “I’ve seen Light World apples before,” she said. “Grannies or whatever they’re called. They’re green.”

“I’m from the desert,” she said, staring at the fruit once more, wishing she could have just one. “We really don’t have apples. I’ve seen red ones before, but...they weren’t exactly common.”

“Oh,” said the goat-girl. “I’ve only read about deserts -”

“You read?” Ruuya tried not to smile. Not too many people liked to read back home. Besides Ruuya, only Minia had really enjoyed it.

“Just because I _look_ like a goat, doesn’t mean I _am_ a goat,” she said, spitting on a rock - no, that was a _skull_ of some large monster on the ground. Maybe a moblin, though it only had one eye socket. Dear gods, did they just leave skulls lying around this place like boulders and stones? “Don’t they teach Light-Dwellers manners?”

“Umm.”

“Anyway, I’m Nan,” she said, pausing at a strange statue. She placed a hand on the stone pedestal. It was a broken stone statue of a man in a flowing robe bearing an ornate staff. His head was broken off and had rolled away, perhaps into the woods or...the abyss behind it. The pair had come to a bridge, a seemingly bottomless chasm running underneath it like a river of shadow. Ruuya shivered; despite her fur, clothes, and cloak it was still chilly in this place. “Might wanna tell me yours so I don’t just introduce ya as “Fallin’ Fox” and then the name sticks like glue, and everyone calls you that forever and ever until the Great Vaati returns to reign again and returns the Dark World to prosperity.”

Dear goddesses, this goat-girl could blab. She didn’t know who this Vaati fellow was, but she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone considered “Great” in this place to come back and reclaim it. Still, Nan seemed relatively nice. Even friendly, though a bit naive.

Certainly this goat-girl must’ve read _something_ about her people’s reputation.

She really wished her scimitars hadn’t disappeared. Better to be safe than sorry. On the upside, Nan was much better company than those wizzrobes. While she didn’t trust the girl, she could at least be polite.

“It’s Ruuya,” she said. Two of her tails brushed against the back of her leg. She tried not to think about them too much. “And I have so many questions. Like, what is this place? Why is everything so different? What happened to my scimitars? Why in Din’s name am I a fox?!” Ruuya broke out into a coughing fit, again. When it subsided, she breathed in and out, catching her breath while Nan placed a fuzzy hand on Ruuya’s shoulder.

“Try not to yell,” said Nan. “The air takes some gettin’ used to.”

Ruuya swallowed. Her lungs burned.

“Now, you had some questions,” the girl said, her hand falling to her side as though she realized that the furry appendage had distressed Ruuya. Why would the goat-girl care? “You’re in the Dark World, now. It’s kind of like a mirror to the light one, but not really? I hear some things aren't exactly right.” Nan motioned to the abyss. “Like that. There’s ‘posed to be something there, but no one really knows anymore.

“I dunno what scimitars are, but if they’re weapons, they’re long gone. Daddy’s old hunting knife disappeared when my parents and I got here when I was a babe. Same for maa’s old sewin’ needles.” She pretended to hold something, closed her hand, then opened it again and whispered: “Poof. Gone.”

“I get it,” said Ruuya, rolling her eyes at the goat-girl’s antics. “No need for drama.”

Ignoring her, Nan went back to her spew. “My dad told me a long time ago that whatever we look like is who we really are on the inside. Kind of? Like, my daa likes to eat paper, candy, and things when he thinks people aren’t looking, so he’s a goat. And my maa’s really smart so she’s an owl! Since you’re a fox, I bet you’re clever, too!”

Nan had _bleated_ maa and daa. Ruuya shook her head. All of this information was so overwhelming.

“And beyond this bridge? That statue?” Ruuya asked.

“Our village.” They began to cross the bridge. Ruuya tried not to look down. Thankfully, they had placed rails on the sides. She would’ve froze up otherwise. “It’s not all that big, only about a hundred houses, shops, and stuff.”

Ruuya thought her heart stopped. “That...that’s small?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah.” The goat shrugged. “My maa says that Calatia’s capital is a grand city; got’s thousands of buildings.”

Ruuya nodded. She had only ever been to a small fishing village on the edge of the ocean. It had barely had more than _fifty_. She had thought it a city at the time. Well, part of her had.

How could so many people live in one place? How could they _stand_ each other? She could barely imagine a hundred buildings, let alone thousands…

_Dear gods..._

They came to a stop at the edge of a cliff. In the valley below, a large river ran through a cluster of buildings made of brick and wood. She had secretly believed that any civilization in the Dark World would be shacks at most, probably mostly half-built hovels. This...this…

“You really _haven’t_ seen a town before, huh?” Nan asked.

Ruuya shook her head. Heading down into the village, they walked along the dirt road, Nan waving to other polymorphs as they passed. Somehow Nan avoided chatting to any of them, something Ruuya felt must’ve been an impressive feat for the goat-girl. After passing over the river, they stopped in front of a large building made of red bricks. It had two floors, shuttered windows, and vines growing up the walls.

Ruuya gawked, mouth hanging slightly open. This must have be one of the manor houses she’d read about in books back in the desert. Apparently, there were flowers that grew in the Dark World, too, just black and purple ones.

“Keatons really are weird…” Nan muttered. Then covered her mouth once she realized she’d said it aloud.

Ruuya sent her a glare in response.

“Sorry,” the goat bowed her head as though ashamed. “Goddesses, maa always says I gotta put a clamp on my mouth, ya know. I talk too much. Anyway. This is home.”

Still mum and somewhat awestruck by the size of said house, Ruuya followed the goat inside.

Whatever she had been expecting, this certainly wasn’t it. The walls and flooring were of carefully placed and inlaid bricks. Chairs and tables were decorated with carved creatures and intricate designs, and on a few of these rested cushions. A great deal of time and care had clearly gone into each piece of wooden furniture. Paintings hung on the walls, depicting landscapes and monsters. One was even of the red-eyed tree, bearing green fruit.

“Nan, there you are!” Ruuya’s attention snapped to the white owl-like woman coming out of one of the back rooms. It must’ve been the kitchen, as she was wearing an apron over her yellow dress. Said apron was covered with blotches of flour and dough. “Where have you been?”

“Maa! Are you trying to...to... _cook?_ ”

“...I can _cook_.” She placed her oddly-fingered wings on her hips.

Nan gave Ruuya a pleading look.

“Your father will be late,” said Nan’s mother, waving her spatula. Something gooey flew off, bouncing off the large stand up...clock? That stood near the staircase. Ruuya supposed that was what it was. It had a face, two hands, and a pendulum keeping time. She’d only read about them in books. “I thought it best to make some dinner…”

“Maa!” the goat-girl bleated. Nan brought a hand to her muzzle and whimpered sadly. The sound reminded Ruuya of Jamila when the mare was stressed.

Her heart twisted. She looked away from the pair of polymorphs.

“Oh,” said the owl, glancing at Ruuya with cool, blue eyes. “Who's your friend?”

Ruuya cleared her throat, regaining her composure as best she could. “Hello. My name is Ruuya…” she began, but her tongue seemed too heavy to speak and her mouth too dry.

“Ah, a Light-Dweller…” The owl gave her a pitying look. “And a Gerudo?”

Ruuya blinked. Her hand - paw - drifted to her waist. _Right. No sword._ Her claws, however, sprung out of her paw.

“I take that as a yes,” she said. “Hmmm… Well, make yourself at home.”

Most people, Ruuya realized, would've tossed her out. Gerudo had one solid reputation: thievery. And in a rich house like this, there had to be many things she could to steal, like those aged tomes, books, and scrolls filling the bookcases on either side of the fireplace on the back wall of the front room.

The owl gave Nan a stern look, then the two of them went into the kitchen. A few moments later, the mother came out with a large mug filled with some kind of steaming liquid and a plate of something - waybread and sliced cheese. She handed these to Ruuya.

Ruuya stared at the plate.

“They're not poisoned,” said the owl.

But Ruuya was doubtful. Scared. This was Dark World food. It certainly smelled fine - better than dried leever, although...

“You take a bite first,” Ruuya said.

The owl, unperturbed, did as asked. She didn’t faint. She didn’t turn green or into a mushroom. Perhaps the poison took later.

_No_ , thought Ruuya, _she wouldn’t have eaten it if it was poison...would she? Maybe it doesn’t affect birds…! Or…?_

“I would not feed a guest poison,” she said, answering Ruuya’s unspoken question. She then sat on the cushioned bench, beckoning - though not necessarily expecting - Ruuya to take a seat. “You are a Gerudo. Desert people often respect hospitality. Food, drink, shelter.”

“Why do you care?” asked Ruuya, still standing. She crossed her arms. “No one trusts a Gerudo.” It was almost a mantra, one of many she had been taught.

The owl’s eyes crinkled. “You didn’t hurt Nan.”

Ruuya slow shook her head. “But she said…”

“Keatons have claws,” said the woman. “Sharp teeth. You could’ve tricked her. Stolen from her, or tried… My daughter is still young, naive, and...very trusting. Those are good things. But, even stunned as you were…you could’ve purloined her. Instead, you did not. I return hospitality for hospitality, honor for honor due. It is the tradition of your folk...as well as the tradition of mine, the people of this Dark World.”

Ruuya opened her mouth, ready to retort. Then stopped. This woman knew of her culture. Knew of her people. And was still welcoming.

Instead, she said, “Thank you.”

“Alysse.” The owl’s eyes crinkled again.

“Alysse.” Ruuya blinked. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It was a strange sensation, this acceptance. Perhaps, in this world of decay and gloom, she had found some decent people. Or at least people who wouldn’t take and hide her belongings. For now though, she would eat, perhaps rest in a guest room if she was allowed, then find a way back and search for Jamila. Despite their hospitality, she still had to make sure her mare, her friend, was safe.

For today, however, she would stay.


	3. Ebb and Flow

The next morning, Alysse shoved Ruuya and Nan out of the house soon after breakfast, handing Nan a canvas bag filled with lunch, packed and cooked by her husband, Joshua the goat. She told Nan to give Ruuya a tour of the village and asked the young goat-girl to help Ruuya pick out a few new articles of clothing.

Why had she entrusted purse to Ruuya of all people? She was a thief, an exile. It seemed so strange until she glanced over at the girl, Nan all but prancing as she skipped out the door, her hooves smacking the paving stones.

 _Right,_ Ruuya thought, _she’s a...kid_. Literally two times over. Probably not the best person to trust with your hard earned rupees. She guessed Alysse was working with what she had. It was another sign of trust. These people were _insane,_ she decided. Innocent. Ruuya awkwardly pocketed the wallet, uncertain if she would return it, still.

With a smile and a wave, Alysse ushered the pair off, stepping back inside to work on her latest project: translating a small, worn book. From what Nan had said, she had been working on this particular translation for three months and had barely made any progress. That comment had left Ruuya speechless. She listened with half an ear as they walked into the village, Nan rambling about all the residents, the fields where food was grown, places she liked, places she didn’t, and all manner of nonsense that Ruuya could barely keep up with.

Nan even went as far to introduce Ruuya to some of the villagers, though not all of them wore easy smiles. Many were shy, others afraid, uncertain. Some even looked hostile. The two ambled through the village, Nan chattering the whole way, until they came to the edge of the village. Here, the houses were more like huts, and spread farther apart, dotting the mottled fields. Farm country, it looked like they grew some kind of wheat, or, perhaps, the Dark World equivalent.

They did not stop at any of these, though Nan still bounced along, despite how far they had come from the village center. The kid was _brave_. They crested another hill.

“And over there is where Aunty Flow lives!” she said, still bouncing on her hooves and pointing at a large spiraling tower upon the top of the next hill. It was crowned by a thatched cone and small, square windows dotted its weather worn stone. A wall made of the same multicolored stones separated it from the outside where an overgrown garden grew, filled with fruit-bearing trees and other plants Ruuya couldn’t name. Nan tugged on her fur, the girl’s eyes sparkling with mischief. “She’s been here the longest, and told us allll about the Great Vaati!”

“Aunty...Flow...,” she said, giving the goat-girl a deadpan stare.

“Yeah. My maa says not to call her that, but I don’t like calling her granny like the others do.” Oh Din, the _bleating_. “It’s a gods-awful name. Don’tcha think? Poor woman!”

She bahed after that, then winked. Ruuya found herself smiling slightly at the girl’s attics.

“So… this Flow,” said Ruuya, eyeing the strange tower with a hint of suspicious, a part of her wondering _what_ she could take from this place. A place like this _had_ to have treasure... “She’s the founder of your village, right?”

“Maybe she is,” Nan answered, then shrugged. “That woman is as old as her home. Ancient. I swear she’s been here _forever_ _._ ”

“And she’s okay with...someone like me in the village?” Ruuya asked.

“So long as you don’t bad mouth the Great Vaati,” Nan replied, rolling her eyes slightly. “Come on! She talks a lot, but she’ll definitely want to meet you!”

“W-wait...!”

After passing through the open gate, they strolled down the long path through an impossible maze of cherry blossoms with blue eyes, and fruit-bearing trees with heavy eyelids. How this could fit inside that small enclosure, Ruuya didn’t know, but at long last, they came to the strange, stone tower. Looking up at the ancient tower, she felt a chill climb up her spine. This wasn’t the house of a normal denizen like Alysse or the residents of the village, but some kind of powerful sorceress. How else could she have created an endless maze out of trees?

Ruuya almost told the goat they needed to flee, but before she could, Nan opened the door, skipping inside the warmly lit building. Dear Din, that girl was fearless, walking into a witch’s home without even… She blinked.

There was a welcome mat on the ground.

It had a picture cat on it, though the mat had seen better days. A wreath of leaves and flowers had been hung on the door. Despite the tower’s ominous appearance, the owner had at least tried to make it look welcoming. Ruuya took a deep breath and entered the tower.

Despite her misgivings, the inside of the tower was homey. And cluttered. Every tabletop and shelf, as well as the occasional chair, were covered with papers, cloth, and trinkets of wood and metal. Some papers lay scattered on the floor, crammed with tiny scrawlings. There seemed to be no order to how anything was placed.

“Aunty Flow!” called Nan, loudly. “We’ve got another one!”

A clamor came from one of the dozen side rooms leading away from the atrium. Gods. There were too many doors and hallways in this place, just like the maze outside. Why did this woman need so many of them?

“Just a minute!” said a hoarse voice. Ruuya flexed her fingers, listening to the bangs and shuffling from further in. Soon, a trail of fog streamed into the atrium. It was grey as steel, and condensed all at once into a vaguely humanoid shape. Arms and legs formed, and in a matter of seconds, a woman made of clouds stood before them.

Her robe was faded, shades of a brighter blue sewn on in patches. Most distinct of all were the double sickles in the center, the blades were upside down, facing each other to create an oval. A single red, square patch sat within; altogether, it seemed like a deformed rabbit design.

“Greetings, dear traveler, and welcome to Outcast Village!” she said, clamping a fluffy hand on Ruuya’s shoulder. Ruuya barely felt it, though she nearly winced anyway. The tone was the same one Rhiun used whenever she discussed their “destiny” to serve the Great Ganondorf and how prosperous and great they would become as a result. She was hoping that these people weren’t as crazed as those back at home, but perhaps all leaders were just as mad as the old vai.

“You must be so disoriented, and confused!” the cloud-witch said, turning. “Come, there is much to discuss.”

Ruuya watched as the cloud-woman floated into another room, her feet barely touching the ground. Flow side-eyed Nan, raising a fluffy eyebrow. In response, the goat-girl trooped after Flow, confidently, making a remark about Flow’s baking skills. With a sigh, Ruuya reluctantly followed suit.

“Now,” said Flow, “I assume Nan has already told you who I am. I look over the village and the people in it, and ensure that no harm comes to them. The Dark World is not a kind place, though that does not mean we should be cruel to one another.”

Stepping into the room, Ruuya paused. They were in a...kitchen, probably. Like the atrium, however, every surface was covered with junk, from books, to bottles, to strange machines with mechanical wheels and gears that operated on their own. In one corner, Ruuya spotted an old log oven, a fire burning within. Flow floated over to it, then pulled down its black door, releasing a blast of heat into the kitchen. Nan bleeped, ducking to the side in alarm.

“I won’t ask for your life story,” she said, reaching for a strange wooden paddle. “But there are some things you should know, child...”

“Like?” Ruuya asked, purposefully staying as far from the stove as possible.

Flow placed the paddle in the stove, then withdrew a flat metal pan from within. With a wave of her hand, a gust of wind cleared off the table, shoving the things on it onto floor. Flow placed the pan on its “cleared” surface and stuck another into the stove, closing its door with an audible _bang._

No wonder the place was a mess.

“The Dark World is a dangerous place. This village is just one of two locations where we may live without the constant fear of being attacked by monsters,” said the woman, grabbing a plate from a stack marked “cleaned” and putting it next to the sheet. She removed the small, round flatbread and placed them on the plate, cooling them with a sudden gust of air. It was horribly inefficient. “The other is a cursed fountain somewhere in this world. It’s said that the guardian of the fountain will grant sanctuary to any who finds it, but nobody can agree where it is.”

Ruuya glanced at Nan. She was bouncing in her seat at the table, very nearly jumping right off the chair. Ruuya carefully sat down beside her.

“That said,” Flow said. “There are a few things you need to be made aware of. Monsters respect power. Unless you have enough magic to make the hinox bow to your whims, don’t even think of trying to command them. Food is not scarce, but don’t waste it. Everyone in this village will charge you fairly. Anyone else should not be trusted. Never touch a skull, thieves hide in the forest, and the mountains are perilous to anyone without something to protect themselves.

“And finally!” Flow said, taking out the other pan from the oven with added flare. “Nobody leaves without having one of my “rainy day” cookies!”

Ruuya eyed the round flatbread critically. She glanced up, noting Flow’s creepy, half-moon shaped smile. Behind her, Nan shook her head.

“And these...cookies. What are they made of?” she asked, warily.

Flow chuckled. “A little of this, a little of that. Mostly it’s a secret.”

Ruuya stared at the discs. Was...it poison? No...that didn’t make sense. Nan had implied she’d been here countless times…

Except if this was all some elaborate ploy...

Nan sighed. “They're not bad, Ruu,” she said, giving her a pat on the arm. It wasn’t comforting, despite the goat-girl’s intent. “They're delicious, the best cookies I've ever eaten, really. It's just...that...”

Flow cackled. “She can’t get enough of them. Just like her father.” Nan looked away sheepishly and stared out the window, the sky having turned purple as the strange red sun approached the horizon.

Still skeptical, Ruuya took a cookie and bit into it.

She had never tasted something so... _sweet._

Before she knew it, a quarter of the plate was gone, and Nan had joined in, devouring two at once. Then another. Damn. That kid could eat.

“I see you’ve taken a liking to them,” said Flow, sitting down in another chair. “I guess I can get to the point, now.

“I mentioned earlier how we don't have to be cruel to one another. Things weren’t always the way they are. A long time ago -” Ruuya barely paid attention. These cookies were heavenly, absolutely the most wondrous thing she’d ever eaten in her entire life. Sweet bread and cinnamon seasoned fruit had nothing on this. She nodded every now and then, trying but failing to slowly eat them so that she could savor their taste...

Finally, the cookies were gone and Nan nudged her under the table.

Flow was gesturing to the ceiling, for some unfathomable reason. “- back to his fortress, where I became one of his most trusted servants.”

The woman sighed, wistful for times long gone by.

“He had me help plan his grand re-entry into the World of Light. It was going to be magnificent! He would have taken his rightful place in the world!” Her head darkened into a worrisome dark gray. “But then that lousy pig interfered! We were so close! I had the portal open, everything was going just right… And that...that...fiend ruined it all! The Great Vaati was cast down in a terrible battle, then captured and murdered by that swine that dared called itself king!”

A fog began to form above their heads, swirling about like mists in the wind. Something wet fell on Ruuya’s shoulder. Wait – was it raining? She glanced up. Oh, it was. Flow was, after all, a cloud. The woman sniffled.

“And...and our wonderful king...,” said Flow, once she regained her composure. “Our handsome, and strong and perfect Vaati… Oh dear gods...was he handsome. He was so lanky, yet fit, like a runner, and his hair, so luxurious...so soft...so -”

“Aunty Flow,” Nan interrupted. “You’re doing it, again.”

Flow covered her mouth.

“Jee…” Nan muttered, glancing at Ruuya.

“Oh! Yes… Well. He was the best ruler of Dark World, and I know he would have been the same for the Light World.” She sighed, one last big drop fell on Ruuya’s shoulder as a result. “Some days I wonder...was there anything I could have done to prevent that tragedy? He came in so suddenly… He must have been waiting, but where, I...” Flow shook her head, thin wisps trailing on either side. “Since then, no one has entered the palace. Fortress. He considered it both. Yet, I still have the key after all these years...”

Ruuya took a mental note of it, and crossed her legs. But how to steal a key from such a powerful witch… “You said you had a portal open. To the Light World?”

Flow nodded. “Yes,” she said. “The Great Vaati entrusted me with the key to our freedom. I practiced every day to perfect that spell. When we were attacked, I tried closing the portal, but I… I wasn’t fast enough. The Usurper had one of his subjects stabilize it. The ones who served Vaati were slain or converted. With no choices left, I fled. I scavenged and hid and eventually settled down here.

“By then, the Usurper had disappeared. The path between worlds had become one-way. People can enter, but they can’t leave. Yet.” The woman straightened in her seat. “When the Great Vaati returns, I know we will be able to return. It’s only a matter of time!”

Ruuya’s instincts screamed at her to run, but she instead grabbed the edge of her seat, digging her claws into the wood. Despite the witch’s clear insanity, she held answers Ruuya needed.

“And the key?” Ruuya asked. “You really haven’t gone back up there since? Not even to take back a few things to remember him by?”

Flow fervently shook her head. “Never! The entire fortress is part of his legacy, and I won’t disturb it.”

Ruuya put her hands up, placatingly. “I understand,” she said, evenly. “Some places should stay as they are to preserve the memory.” When Flow’s shoulders sagged, Ruuya lowered her hands.

“Yes. Thank you,” said the woman. “I’m glad to see someone young who understands the value of leaving things alone.” Flow side-eyed Nan, and the girl bleated nervous laughter.

Mentally, Ruuya cheered. It had always been such a chore to convince even the least suspicious of her former sisters of her claims. Here, all she needed were a few choice words.

Far be it from her to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So,” she began, perhaps a bit too loudly. “Tell me more about the Great Vaati. It sounds like you two were close…?”

“Oh goddesses,” Nan muttered, hands covering her face in horror. “Ruu!”

Ruuya’s fingers twitched. Flow giggled. “Ahh… Vaati never let anyone get close. Although, he and I did share something...special.”

The woman sighed wistfully, calling over the kettle of steaming water and pouring herself a cup of tea. It floated back onto the stove. Ruu hadn’t even noticed that the old witch had put it on.

“Those days...” Flow shook her head, and stood up. She grabbed the empty plate and piled more cookies upon it. “In those days, Lord Vaati had a single purpose in life: leaving the Dark World. He had so many hopes. And they all came crashing down...” Ruuya could smell them from here, the aroma made her head spin. What had she been thinking again?

“I hope,” she continued, “that when he appears again, he may see the glory of the Light World once more.”

Ruuya found herself snorting. “The Light World isn’t as glorious as you think it is,” she said, crossing her legs.

“Ooo!” Nan was suddenly in her face. Ruuya jerked back, but the back of the chair kept her from going very far. “You can tell us about the other world, yah? It’s been a long time since anybody’s seen it! What’s it like now?”

“Uh...”

Flow laughed. “Now, now, Nan,” she said, patting the girl on the head. “Take care not to overwhelm the poor girl.”

Ruuya gulped, suddenly incredibly conscious of her furry paws and multiple tails. Nan groaned, but acquiesced. With the goat-girl in her own chair again, Ruuya sighed in relief.

“So?” asked Nan, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. “Tell us! I can’t remember the Light World very well, and my maa and paa have told me about the forests and towns, but I’ve _never_ seen a desert before!”

Ruuya raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?” she inquired.

Nan nodded. “Yeah, of course, I’ve only read about them!” Flow smiled, taking a sip of her tea then rolled her hand, giving the universal sign to “go on”.

Tapping her thigh – and cringing – Ruuya slumped in her seat. “The desert, huh?

“It’s… It is…” She paused, and started again “It’s endless. Sand stretches on and on in every direction, farther than you can see. In the day, the sands are scorching hot, and at night they are cold as death. Ice. We even have snow in the highlands. The chill saps your strength, and threatens to drag you away into the All-Waste. Creatures hide below, waiting to ambush their prey. The sands are always moving, dancing at the wind’s whimsy…”

Ruuya closed her eyes. Somehow, it already felt like it was so long ago since she’d been there… Had it really only been a few weeks since she’d left?

“It’s dangerous to travel alone, but it...is not impossible to live there. Tents and firepits to keep cool or warm. Cacti grow fruit, protected by rows and rows of spines. Spices can be foraged. Water can be found in oases to save a dying woman from thirst.

“It’s tough, but it’s home. Was home.”

Idly, Ruuya rolled her fingers in, her claws marring the wood table with scratches. The feeling of sand between her toes in the morning had become nothing more than a memory. Familiarity had flown out the door the minute she left the desert. Veil had been left behind, her best friend was missing, and now she had taken on the form of a beast.

A hand laid atop hers. Ruuya opened her eyes. Flow nodded, something akin to... _understanding_ written on her face.

“It is not alright.” Flow gave her hand a squeeze, like a caring, old grandmother might to comfort her grandchild. “And I won’t tell you otherwise. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But we have a home, a village, that you can be a part of. If you like. You don’t have to decide right away, but should you stay, you won’t be without friends here.”

She stared. Nan patted her back. No matter how she worked her mouth, no sounds would come.

Flow smiled, stiffly. “Why don’t you go for a walk?” she asked. “I find that it steadies the nerves. And makes it easier to think.”

Ruuya swallowed. “Thank you,” she said, quietly. She stood, rolling her fingers again. “For everything. I… I need to...go...think.”  Ruuya turned on her heel, and quickly walked out of the kitchen.

“Ruu, wait!”

“No, Nan,” said Flow.

By instinct, her eyes darted around the house as she left, a small metal lump finding its way into her hand as she stepped outside; she pocketed it without further thought. Strangely, she made it through the maze without getting lost once. Out in the open fields beyond, she took a few steps and stopped. Thoughts whirled and repeated in her head, taunting her with loss.

Taking a moment to breathe and reorient herself, Ruuya started walking again, allowing her feet to carry her back up the path and towards the village proper

This wasn’t the first time she had ever walked off stress. She was just aware enough of the people and things around her to avoid bumping into them. A few of the villagers even moved away from her, though she barely noticed this as she went.

Steadily, the frustration ebbed. Her situation hadn’t changed, but she could adapt. Would adapt. She would learn. She would do what she’d been doing for the past four years: scheme.

Ruuya finally came to a stop, then looked up. Then higher still. The statue of Vaati loomed over her, cracked and headless. It was little more than a boundary point, standing at the outskirts of the village. Yet it gave the villagers hope, something they desperately needed in this strange land. The man could have been a maniacal tyrant for all they knew, and yet they would’ve followed him, regardless, just for that sliver of hope he represented.

Ruuya sighed. She knew all too well how precious that feeling was. She’d seen it in the eyes of sisters, her mothers… Watched just how far someone could be willing to go for such a thing…

She looked past the broken sentry, to the woods and plains beyond. In the distance, creatures stalked the land or settled in groups. They looked like mere specks from where she watched, but she didn’t dare underestimate their deadliness. A rattlesnake was just as venomous up close as it was from afar.

It was an odd revelation. The monsters could enter the village at any time, slaughtering the cursed people. Yet, for whatever reason, they chose to stay away. It was as if they were actively avoiding some invisible border, if the emptiness between her and the roving dots were anything to go by.

Perhaps Flow was even more capable than she had first thought. Not just a witch whom could make a small garden seem like a maze, or cause it to rain when she grew sad...

Ruuya squeezed her eyes shut, and let everything out in a sigh. She had dug herself out of holes before. Lesser holes, but holes all the same.

“Ruu!” called a young voice. Nan. “Ruuya!”

Staring at the landscape, Ruuya listened as Nan’s hoofbeats got closer. The girl was nearly out of breath by the time she came to rest by the statue, panting. Ruuya licked her lips, then stopped, feeling the stiff fur of her muzzle. Goddesses, that was getting annoying. Instead, she hummed.

“What...is it?” Nan said as she tried to regain her breath, hands on her knees.

Ruuya’s gaze roamed the landscape. “Flow,” she said quietly. “She kept talking about the palace-fort. But I don’t see any sign of it.”

“That’s...because...it’s way up there!” said Nan, pointing towards a far-off mountain range covered in snow. The sickly green sky seemed to drape across it like an encroaching miasma. “The Great Vaati built his palace at the top of Hebra Mountain. You can’t really see it from here, though.”

“Oh.”

“It’s supposed to be huge, and carved into the mountain itself!”

Ruuya continued staring into the distance, not really concentrating on the peak.

“...Ruuya?”

She breathed in, mind still whirling with ideas. Plots. Schemes. This...was going to be hard.

That felt like an understatement.

“Hmm...?” she answered. Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around her. She froze, shoulders hitched. Strangers didn’t hug. Daughters of the desert were serpents, not to be trusted.

But this wasn’t the desert. Nan wasn’t a daughter of the sands, just a child of the Dark World, a girl who had barely known the world of light, but was kind nonetheless...

The rules had changed, she realized with a start. That frightened her more than death itself.

“It’s...so far,” she whispered, finding her voice again. “And covered with snow, like the Gerudo Highlands, or the chilly top Mount Agaat…”

“You’re not planning to go, are you?” asked Nan.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ruuya said, holding back a scoff, “That’d be suicide.”

The goat-girl leaned back and looked her over, tilting her head. How a young girl like her could have such a piercing gaze, Ruuya didn’t know. Maybe Nan had gotten it from her mother.

Eventually, Nan shook her head. “Nope!” she said. “I think you’re lying. Which doesn’t make sense. Why would you even want to go there? You already know it’s super dangerous, so why…it’s like trying to get George to give you a ride!”

George? She decided not to ask.

“I need to. I....” she said. “I’ve gotta get back...I...my _friend_ and I got separated...and I’m...”

She swallowed. The wall had broken. Why bother fixing it now? “She’s all I’ve got left. I have to make sure she’s okay. And it seems that his fortress – palace, whatever he called it - is the only chance to get back there and make _sure_ she’s safe. To protect her...”

Nan nodded; shockingly, it seemed the young goat understood. “I'll tell maa, don’t worry. We’ll help you.”

“No!” Ruuya shouted, her feelings of panic returning. She covered her mouth a moment later, walking a few steps back, away from Nan. “I mean, no one else has to know, Nan. Right now, I mean. I don’t even know when I’ll be leaving.”

Nan’s ears flattened against her head. “You don’t trust us?”

Ruuya hesitated, then rubbed her forehead. She was damned either way, wasn’t she? Trusting was better than dying.

“Your mom taught you about Gerudo culture, yeah? Then you know we don’t trust easily. Only tell Alysse about my…” She blanked. What was that word?  “Uhhh...leaving.” The exile paused, looking again at the far off monsters. They barely seemed to move, but they were still there. Still dangerous. She...could trust the girl and her mother, however. Nan had proven a friend, despite what she knew of Ruuya herself and her people. “However...I’ll take any tips or advice you can give.”

Nan stepped forward into her line of sight. It took every bit of resolve she had not to jump. “You don’t have to be alone,” the girl said. “We can help you... After all, you’re one of us!”

Ruuya’s brain stopped. The reflective retort she had on her tongue gone. She had left everything behind, and then lost what remained. To belong in a village, a community again, after she had willfully accepted banishment, was unthinkable. Rogues like herself were seen as little more than trash by her sisters...

Did this girl understand what she was offering?

The bright smile offered said “yes”. Of course, Alysse had taught her daughter well. Or perhaps Nan was just kind by instinct. What a strange idea indeed.

Ruuya carefully mimicked Nan’s smile, feeling something she hadn’t in weeks.

Hope. A desire to accomplish _something_ … Perhaps she could find more than one answer at the palace. Flow had said the gateway could only open one way, and suggested that the reason was linked to whatever had happened to Vaati. Where the old sorcerer had ended up after his defeat laid answers, as well. She had to go. This child didn’t deserve to be stuck in the Dark World anymore than Jamila deserved to be lost.

Hospitality must be returned with hospitality, after all. That was the way of her people.

“Sarqso,” she said. At Nan’s befuddled stare, she laughed. “It means “thank you”.”

Nan’s smile returned, and they headed back to the village, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy_Kandra: BOOP BOOP. I’m Tet, what’s up? Anyway, hospitality is often a huge thing in desert cultures, and Ruuya thus feels like she must return it because Alysse, Nan, and co. have shown it to her without prompting. Welcome to one of the “themes” of this fic, I guess.


	4. Promise

The walk back to the house was anything but quiet. Amidst the bustling villagers going about their day, Nan fairly danced around them. She would grab some article of clothing or equipment, then leave Ruuya to pay from the borrowed purse while she ran somewhere else. Between purchases, the girl would quickly rattle off names and numbers, and take off again. After the third pass, Ruuya caught onto their meaning.

Nan was picking out adventure gear.

"Oh!" she gasped, running to a building instead of a stall. "You're gonna want to protect your feet better! The ground gets really rough the further out you go." Ruuya followed behind, catching the door as it began to swing close. She wiggled her toes, suddenly conscious that besides her scimitars, her sandals had vanished as well. Nan continued to ramble, "And you don't want to get bitten by a jumping skull. Trust me, they have a nasty bite!"

Ruuya watched Nan dart over to the other side of the store. Jars filled with colored liquids lined the back shelves, glistening in the glow of hanging lanterns. In the next second, her eyes were drawn to an over-sized, double-edged sword displayed on an adjacent wall. It wasn't fancy by no means, but the sheer amount of fangs on the guard and the chipped, white spiral design gave her pause. Then there were the nicks on the blade and the discolored patches on the edges. She didn't want to even begin imagining what kind of monster could have wielded it.

Yet, despite that, she couldn't pull herself away.

Somewhere to her left, Nan kept up a running commentary. "All of these are pretty much one-size-fits-all. If it even fits you at all in the – oh! Right, yeah, George traded that to Mr. Quikson a ways back." The girl practically ran up to Ruuya's side and whispered in her ear, "George is a Lynel!"

Ruuya opened then closed her mouth, trying and failing to find words. Finally, she settled. "George?" she asked.

Nan nodded. "Yep! He says they all have names like that."

Ruuya turned to the girl, frowning slightly. "Do they?"

"Apparently, it's...some kind of joke?" she said, shaking her head as though no one could actually understand Lynel humor. Then she cleared her throat and deepened her voice, "'You'd expect Lynel to have vicious sounding names with too many "vr""- she managed to roll that - "and "kh" sounds. Perhaps a few apostrophes,' he says. 'We don't. Mainly because everyone expects that. Pummeling expectations into next week is just as important to us as beating the crap out of the next fool who marches into our territory. It's a base science, like astrology and astronomy. The small folk expect us to have names like "Vrekhos" or "Kho'aurrel", but instead they're "George", "John", "Carl" and things such as that. Single syllable, double at most, child. It's more frightening that way'."

Nan giggled. Ruuya clamped her mouth shut, feeling a headache start right behind her ears.

"That is..." Ruuya paused, then tried again. " _Why_? Why would such a terrifying creature come here and not attack you?"

"He protects us! In the ancient days, he attacked the village bimonthly, but Flow beat him so much that she eventually got him to simmer down and be our defender instead! He's basically her boyfriend, but don't tell her that. She doesn't like to admit that she has eyes for anyone other than Vaati." Nan giggled, hands over her mouth, as if this was the juiciest gossip in the village.

And it probably was, considering.

Ruuya stared at the girl for a moment more, before blinking her eyes and turning away. This was far too much of an oddity for her liking.

"I regret asking," she said, rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands.

"It's okay! You get used to it." Nan nodded decisively, then unloaded an armful of things onto the counter. How had she even collected a canteen and flint so quickly? The very hairy, long-nailed creature behind the counter didn't even bother acknowledging them. It lazily looked at the assortment of items, then continued reading the book in its – his? - hands.

Ruuya decided to stop questioning so much of the world before her headache grew even worse.

"Come on!" said Nan, tugging on her arm. "We still have to getcha boots! Like I said, it's hard getting a good fit. Everyone has a different size and shape, so boots, shirts, and pants have to be custom made most days. I _think_ you might be able to wear these, though."

Ruuya was dragged past the long tables with baskets of stones to a shelf lined with some sort of footwear. So these were boots? They covered more leg than what she was used to, and the green material would probably go up mid-thigh if worn. She had seen a rough drawing of something like it before in a book. A protective footwear made for masculine adventurers, not...not Gerudo women. They wore sandals or soft shoes, not these...leg sheaths!

Dear gods… There would be something made for men on her feet. Her heart raced, and her hands shook just thinking about it.

Nan placed the boots on the floor. "Go ahead! Try them on!"

Ruuya stared at the taboo footwear. She rolled her fingers, then glanced at Nan. "Uh… Are you certain there's not something else I could wear? Maybe sandals?"

Nan pouted. "They're just boots, Ruu," she said, hands on her hips. "They're not gonna hurt you."

Ruuya met the girl's eyes, willing her to understand. She knew of Gerudo culture; an explanation of why this was wrong shouldn't have been necessary. So why was this deemed acceptable?

Neither one broke eye contact. The strange beast at the counter flipped over to the next page in his book.

Nan crossed her arms, and tilted her head up. Ruuya snorted.

The silence was odd, but not uncomfortable. Nan smiled a tad, as if she knew how this would work out.

Time stretched on, the clock in the corner struck the next hour, and Ruuya thought. The more she examined the idea, the more her fear dried up like water upon thirsty ground. The prospect of wearing a man's boot was not entirely embraced, but it was considered. She had broken one taboo already. What was one more?

A tremor ran up her spine. This was not going to end well, she knew it.

She grabbed the ends, then carefully slipped her foot in the boot. She grit her teeth. Were they _supposed_ to be this tight?

Bracing herself against a table, Ruuya stared at her foot. The world didn't end. A yawning chasm didn't open up and swallow her.

It was simply there. And loose-fitting above the ankle.

A tiny thrill ran through Ruuya. It was a small defiance. Still frightening, and painful, but nothing of tremendous consequence. Maybe.

Nan crouched down, making a show of inspecting the boot. She hummed. "How are ya toes?"

Ruuya grimaced.

"Fine."

"You're sneering."

Gods, was she losing feeling in her toes, now? "You would be too, kid," she said, wincing slightly, "if you'd put your feet in these... How do men stand having their toes crushed all day long?"

"Ummm...they're not...supposed to do that?"

"Not what?"

Nan reached for a larger pair.

"Try these," she said, holding back a giggle. "Trust me."

After ten minutes of trying to remove the first pair, and, at long last succeeding once the manager slothed over and cut them off, Ruuya was finally able to stretch and curl her toes again. Then the goat somehow tricked her into trying on the other boots. These, amazingly, fit perfectly. She could even wiggle her toes a little.

Ruuya lifted her foot, amazed at how snug the boot was.

A man's boot.

Oh goddess of sands, what had she done? This was blasphemous.

"This is great! You don't even need a refitting!" said Nan. She grabbed Ruuya's arm, holding on tight. "We got everything you need from here. Come on!"

The girl let go and practically danced over to the counter, light on her feet. Ruuya followed her, thoughts still whirling and warring. She stiffly pulled out a few rupees for payment and handed them over to the hairy creature. He nodded, a smile very slowly crossing his face.

"Thank...you..." he droned, slowly. Ruuya wasn't even quite sure if he _had_ spoken. Ruuya nodded and focused on stuffing everything into the small bag hidden under the pile of supplies. She hadn't even half the apparent necessities when she had left home, banished. A compass was unneeded when the sun gave you directions, and the stars were as familiar as the back of your hand. A jar of "reflex potion" sounded silly, and who needed a small knife when you had swords?

Normal Hylians, she guessed. Not everyone had the benefit of learning to survive day by day.

When everything was packed up, the bag was slung over Ruuya's shoulder. Nan took a step back and gave her a once over. Apparently satisfied, she nodded to herself.

"That'll do! You're all set! Well, um… Almost." The girl giggled nervously. "You'll still need Aunty's permission, but I can help ya get it out of her! She never says no to the lamb eyes." As if proving a point, she batted her lashes and pouted.

Ruuya blinked. It was kind of cute, in the same way that a child getting caught stealing candied fruit before Sun's Day Feast and then trying to pass it off as a snack was cute.

Flow wouldn't be so foolish to fall for that. No, Ruuya wouldn't seek permission. Couldn't. There was no way she could convince the old sorceress to let her go.

Nan's hand was gripping her arm again, pulling her away.

"Bye, Mr. Quikson!" she said, waving with her other hand. The man lifted a hand, and waved slowly. Nan waited just long enough for him to stop before turning, and barging out the door.

The goat-girl wove her through the streets, practically dragging Ruuya back to the house. She occasionally giggled, uncaring of the attention she gained leading a keaton through the village.

On instinct, Ruuya pushed away the bothersome thoughts. She had plans, or at least a skeleton of a plan. It would have to do.

/-/-/

By the time they reached Nan's home, Ruuya was still no closer to executing a fast escape. Nan was too enthusiastic, wanting nothing more to help and rush things along. Alysse had invited her to stay, honoring traditions. Joshua cooked and shared their food, when he could have otherwise denied her a place at their table.

Indebted as she was, to not say a word and flee would be disrespectful. An offense not only to them, but herself. As such, she found herself treading in Nan's wake, the girl running to the stairs and taking them two at a time.

"Nan? Ruuya?" called Alysse. "How was your trip?"

Ruuya swallowed and walked up to the table in the great room where the woman now sat, deep in thought. "Yes, we're...we have returned. Nan thought it best to...take me on a tour of the marketplace."

Alysse was surrounded by small piles of books, around a half dozen cracked open in a semi-circle. The woman turned slightly in her seat, smiling, yet not looking directly at her. Ruuya noted the pair of reading glasses on the woman's beak; they made her appear older than before, wiser too. A fitting look, she supposed, for someone who looked like an owl.

"I thought you two would be gone far longer," she said, still not looking up from her work.

"Me, too." Ruuya leaned to the side, eyeing the weathered book in the center of the chaos. However, there was a sense of control to the mess; a lack of clutter. It was definitely easier to identify something on the table than it had been at Flow's place. "Did you make any progress yet?"

"Not as much as I'd like to," she answered. "I found some words and some letters of one language, but the other two still elude me. The madman who wrote this kept switching between three languages. This one is a variation of Hylian, but so old that I can't match it to anything within the last few millennia… Perhaps as old as… This here is Middle Hylian, a bit newer, but his handwriting is horrible..." Alysse glanced back up, startling Ruuya from over her shoulder. Her glasses slid down her beak a little. Alysse's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Interested are you?"

"Um..." Ruuya cleared her throat. "Can I, uh… Can I take a look?"

Alysse laughed. "Have you ever translated a foreign text before?" Ruuya blinked then chuckled to herself.

"Ah… I usually have some frame of reference, but yes, I have," said Ruuya.

Alysse waved her to come closer. Standing beside the owl-woman's chair, Ruuya was able to pick out one of the reasons the text was so difficult to translate. While every book she had ever read was written cleanly and concisely, often with block letter printing, but handwritten accounts like this one varied from person to person. Some wrote in tiny script, while others would shorthand half the words to save on paper. But all of those paled in comparison to the scraggly mess she was looking at. Sometimes the script flowed nicely, as if written with a practiced hand, but then it would shift into jagged lines, and something distinctly not Hylian.

None of it made sense to Ruuya, not even the few Hylian letters she _could_ guess. She looked up at the owl, amazed that the woman could translate any of this diary at all. It was far beyond Ruuya's current skill. She had thought herself gifted at translating text when she lived among her sisters, but Alysse...

This was a master of the craft, and she still had not completely pieced together this puzzle.

"This is one of the cleanest pages," Alysse offered, gently pushing the page over to her. "Some others are torn or stained with so much ink that it's impossible to say if anything had been written there."

Ruuya continued to stare at the carnage. The only sign of order were several pieces of string laid out across both pages, dividing them into sections and holding them down on the table.

Finally finding her voice, she said, "He really was a madman..." She tapped the edge of the table, then looked at Alysse. "How did you know this was written by a man?"

The other woman covered her beak with a wing, and giggled. "A reliable source. This is a challenge, honestly. Others in the village can't read any of it. And I've barely pierced the surface myself despite years of practice..."

Ruuya mouthed the words, scrutinizing the pages again. Still nothing made sense to her. "Not even Flow," she said.

"Definitely not."

She eyed the owl-woman again. Alysse was visibly shaking from suppressed laughter. "Where did you get this?" she asked, "Not that it's any of my business, but for a book this ruined and poorly-kept to be even remotely legible… I don't know, something must have happened to it."

"Very astute," said the woman, taking a breath.

"A-toot?"

Alysse covered her beak with one of her wings, muffling a giggle. It didn't matter as she was immediately drowned out by cackling bah's right outside the doorway.

"Nan!" Alysse said, shaking her head.

"I didn't say nothin'!" called her daughter.

Ruuya looked between the bent over scholar and the doorway, unable to form any words. Eventually, the kitchen door opened and closed, silencing Nan's cackling.

She had an idea of why that was so funny. Veil had often laughed at her when she had first tried to learn Calatian, and later, present day Hylian. Was her pronunciation that awful?

"Nan, go help your father make dinner, please."

The girl sighed, but reclosed the door without further complaint.

"I suppose I should tell you my suspicions," said the woman once she had regained her composure. "I can't read the other two languages and he switches from one then another sometimes every other sentence or word. Even his lists are in all three. But this book... Well, I received it from Flow… And I am a trained linguist and scholar."

Ruuya took a seat across the table, feeling that this would be a long conversation. "A...linguist?"

"Not a word you know, I take it?" she asked, smiling with her eyes alone. It was an odd expression on an owl-like face no matter how many times Ruuya saw it. Alysse clucked. "Ancient linguistics were my passion as a scholar. I trained at the University of Seline in Calatia, under one of the foremost scholars of ancient Calatian and Hyrulean… Ah, well, there's little point in regretting that now. What is past is past."

Ruuya frowned, slightly. She hadn't thought about it until now, but Nan had implied that her parents had fallen into the Dark World when she was all but a babe. That had to have been more than a decade ago, and if they had been gone for so long, then all their friends, family, and coworkers would most likely think them dead.

Ruuya hadn't thought of that. Could she really find a way back when no else had? _Yes_ , she thought, determined, _I have to. They just...gave up too quickly_.

"I'm sorry." The words felt strange on her tongue. She wasn't used to saying them; the Gerudo rarely apologized to each other. They were thieves, after all, hardened into stone by the desert herself. She was a harsh Mother. "Do you miss it?"

That was probably the wrong thing to ask. Ruuya felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment.

The woman closed her eyes, her expression pained. "Yes, some," she admitted, but did not go into more detail. "But this text... I've seen many documents in my time, but it is far more ancient than most that we had in the university archives, or even the great libraries at Hyrule Castle and Calatia…"

"I see."

"Do you notice the faint blue tint to the parchment?" she asked.

Ruuya squinted, then shook her head. Alysse handed her a sheet of unused paper. Indeed, next to the white paper, the pages appeared faintly blue. "Why is it blue?"

"Preservation magic," she answered. "At first, I thought Flow had done it. She is a powerful Wind Priestess, one with centuries if not millennia of experience in the arcane arts."

"But?"

"It doesn't match her residue."

This was indeed an odd conversation. Residue? What did residue have to do with magic?

"Whoever made this book originally wanted it to survive. I'm not sure that that was their intent in the end, however," she said, pointing towards a different page. This one was mainly ink stains and squibbles with only a few words jolted down in the strange, angular letters. "But they were a powerful mage, considering that their spell lasted so long."

"And the...res'due?"

Alysse nodded, not even registering Ruuya's slight in language. "The book is beginning to yellow and fray at the edges, but a book this old… Well. It should have fallen apart long ago, but this spell and a mixture of preservation herbs brushed on the pages kept it together, though the spell has weakened considerably in recent times. I suppose that's why I finally agreed to do it."

Ruuya licked her lips, glancing between the woman and the book. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then asked, "Alysse… How long have you been here?"

The owl looked down, a tired sigh escaped her beak. She looked up, then adjusted her glasses.

"A long time," she said, blinking slowly. The large father clock struck the hour, three o'clock in the afternoon. "Time works...differently here."

Ruuya felt a spike of panic shoot up her spine. "What...what does that mean?"

"We live longer because of the nature of this world and the strange forms we take," she said. "I am sure of that now, but, if that were the only difference, it would be...almost palatable."

She felt a sudden chill. She didn't like what Alysse was implying. If time moved differently, that meant any number of days or weeks or years could have passed. Everyone she knew could be dead. _Jamila…_ What had become of her? Was she alright? Had someone taken her and…? _Gods, Jamila...I have to get back._

Flow had said something about a portal or something in that palace in the mountains, hadn't she? It might hold the answer she needed, or if she found its master… No, Flow said he had already passed, but maybe if he'd left something, anything behind… It was her only hope, she decided, she _needed_ to know.

A fool's hope was still hope.

"I...I have to get -" she said, starting to stand.

Ruuya had originally planned to wait until tonight to leave, but now - Alysse placed a hand on her forearm, a small shock, like a small jolt of electricity from a keese, raced up her arm. She slipped back into her chair, startled.

_Don't judge books by their covers. Don't judge books...dear gods…! She..._

"You will leave at night if you are that determined to go," said Alysse, staring at her with her light blue eyes, filled with some strange sort of power. It wasn't so different from Minia's piercing gaze.

Dear gods, she'd figured it out. Ruuya nodded, fear twisting her stomach into a knot. Alysse kept talking. "For every day that passes here, five pass there, I-"

"Why didn't you tell me earlier!" Ruuya slammed a hand against the table, disturbing a few of the pages which laid there. She wanted to do more than just that. Much more. Perhaps throw the table onto it side in a fit and dump its context onto the ground. Alysse had lied to her, she'd betrayed her trust. She had invoked the customs of Ruuya's people just to twist them to her own ends. "I deserved to _know_! My life...my friend..."

"Yes," she said, "you did."

Ruuya blinked. She hadn't expected that. It quenched the flame somewhat.

"But I could not allow another young woman to charge off to the palace alone without supplies or knowledge of what she will face."

"Another…" Ruuya's mouth felt like she had swallowed a handful of sand. "What...who?"

The owl sighed. "My daughter."

Ruuya stared, and swallowed. "But Nan…" she paused, backtracking. "Her older sister?"

Alysse shook her head.

Something sunk to the pit of stomach. It felt like she had eaten a whole hydromelon, rind and all. Dread? Shock?

Neither. It was realization.

"You're a scholar of great renown. Were, I mean," Ruuya began, almost absentmindedly. "Nan's your granddaughter."

"We haven't told her," said Alysse, massaging the side of her head with her fingers. It still seemed odd to Ruuya that a bird-person would have both hands and wings, like the mythical Rito of old. Then again, Nan and her...grandfather had hooves on their feet and furry hands. It might be best not to try to figure out the whims of the gods or why people had certain features in certain forms. "And we would prefer you not to."

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. What could she even say? She had never been good at comforting others, so she settled on her favored tactic.

Bluntness.

"What happened?"

The owl released a snort. "It was twelve years ago." She began to collect the pages of the journal as she spoke, placing them in a pile, then closing and collecting the reference books into another pile beside the first. Ruuya mentally did the math. That was about...forty or fifty years in the Light World. Probably. She wasn't the best with large numbers. "We - Joshua, Bast, Nan, and I - were traveling to Hyrule from Calatia, I had plans to visit the library there to translate a recently discovered volume of the Historica, believed to have come from the age of the Hero of Time."

That...was old. Ruuya couldn't name how old, but it was well before Ganon's defeat at the hands of the Hylian Champion some four hundred years ago. Except her sisters did not denote him a "hero", but a vagabond who had murdered their ancient king. Still, Ruuya nodded. The owl had moved to put the reference books in one of the shelves lining the wall, the one closest to the fireplace.

"On our way, we fell through a portal -"

"Was it made by wizzrobes?"

Alysse looked at her over her shoulder then cocked her head to the side. Gods, her back was still turned away, how the hell...right. Owl. "Wizzrobes?"

"They sent _me_ here…"

"No," she said, resting both wings on the table, closing her eyes in pain for a moment. Ruuya wasn't sure if it was grief or just activity. Even her own mothers hadn't seemed so weak, and she was sure they were both a few decades older than this woman. "Flow opened it. Or so I think."

Ruuya's eyes widened. Things were making less sense by the minute. "But…why?" she asked.

"I...do not think it would be wise to say," she said, glancing at the journal for a moment then back at Ruuya. "Soon after we settled in the village, Bast decided to head to the palace after she heard tales of Vaati and a possible portal to the world of light. They're mere legends, but it was the only hope we had. She wished to find it, reopen it, perhaps save the village if she could and move its denizens to the world of light. She was always so headstrong..."

"Seems foolish," Ruuya scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "For someone untrained, I mean."

Veil would have yelled at her for her lack of empathy.

"Untrained?" she said, mimicking Ruuya's tone, but harsher, more potent. "Bast was a knight of Calatia."

That was not what she had expected.

"I see," was all Ruuya could say.

"She didn't have a plan," said Alysse, weariness settling into her tone. She tied the pages of the old journal with string, sitting it on top of the bookshelf where anyone could just go and snatch it. Leaving a beautiful book like that in the open was just like asking someone to take it. Ruuya's hand twitched.

Ruuya quieted those thoughts, and stopped flexing her fingers. Alysse sighed, though whether in relief or weariness, she couldn't tell. "But she made it to the palace with little hassle."

"How long did it take?"

"Exactly?" Alysse asked, bent over an old wooden chest next to the bookshelf. She opened it, withdrawing an old worn scroll and a strange, red cloak. Then, using the bookshelf to regain her balance, she slowly climbed to her feet, a few of her joints audibly popping. Ruuya winced. The owl grunted. "Somedays are better than others."

"Oh."

"It was about a week before she returned," she said, her voice flat. How could any mother remain so calm while speaking about a deceased child? "Injured. Bloodied. Half-dead. But she brought with her this map. I wish for you to have it. Take it with you."

Ruuya took the proffered scroll from the owl and untied it. Gently, she unrolled the aged parchment, noting that it glowed with a gentle blue evanescence. _Preservation magic_ , her mind supplied.

"You didn't tell me this story to convince me not to go?" she asked, frowning slightly.

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "You're much as she was," she said, looming over Ruuya's shoulder and studying the map. "I could no more stop you from going than I could stop Nan from taking up the sword, or the river from flooding our fields each spring."

"You didn't send the wizzrobes, right?"

She gave Ruuya an incredulous look. "I'm not a sorceress." Odd thing to say, considering that electric jolt she had felt earlier. It must've been just static then. What was the old bird drying her clothes with, Flow's oven? A lightning rod? "I…"

She turned away, shoulders bent slightly with grief. In the firelight, she saw tears glistening in the owl's eyes. Ruuya instinctively placed a hand on her arm, but Alysse pushed it away, straightening her back.

"I have to protect Nan," she said. "I have promises I must keep."

That fire. That bone-deep will to protect even while exhausted, burned out, and in pain. That was something she could respect. It was the first time she had ever seen it in anyone outside of the desert, though. Maybe a woman did not need to be a warrior or thief to be strong, after all.

Ruuya blinked. It was a realization that struck her as odd. It went against the old chant: strength through sacrifice; sacrifice through pain; pain through retribution. It had been ingrained in her since childhood, but it had never sounded so hollow as it did now.

She hadn't thought she'd find such resolve in some dusty, old scholar.

Ruuya nodded, and decided to change the topic, pointing to an odd, ovular shape on the map.

"What is this?" she asked, pointing to the word. It was Hylian, but older than the dialect Ruuya was familiar with.

"It reads "mirror" in ancient Hylian, though why...who can fathom," she answered, then pointed to another word. The ink was much fresher, Calatian, though the handwriting was so atrocious Ruuya could not read the script. "This one, well...is labeled "prison", the word under it is "Darknut"."

Shit. Darknuts? What kind of death trap was this? Perhaps if she was lucky, Bast had left a weapon or two behind when she had fled the fortress.

"Why would a...good person need _those_ things in…?"

Alysse's eyes darkened for a moment, then she answered her with a nonchalant shrug. "This _is_ the Dark World," she answered. "Darknuts, hinox, and such ilk are a common sight here."

Yes, that was probably a good enough answer in this realm, considering the monsters that wandered not so far from Outcast Village. Still, the doubt was beginning to sit in, nibbling at her feet. What was she getting herself into? Did she really want to die in this wasteland, alone, with no one to remember her?

_Do I have any other option?_

"It may be there to guard his prison," said Alysse. "Which is apparently in the dungeons -" she directed Ruuya's gaze to another ancient Hylian word, partially faded - "on the lowest level. Bast...mentioned a secret entrance in the colosseum in her final days."

"That sounds...dangerous."

The owl sighed, with her back bent and spectacles on the tip of her nose, she appeared far older. Worn, like a frayed page in an aging book. "I will not deny that," she agreed. "It is your choice to go. If you chose not to, however, you are still our guest and welcomed among us."

Ruuya flattened her lips, determined.

"I have to." She smiled bitterly, then echoed Alysse's words: "I have a promise to keep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note: Alysse has a chronic illness, some days it’s worse, some days it’s better. This is one of the former. Vaati will be here next chapter, even if it takes us 10,000 words to get there!


	5. The Palace Above the Clouds

There was something unsettling about lying still in a house. It creaked. It groaned. And Joshua's snoring could be heard clearly through the walls. Softly embraced in thick blankets, instead of sheets, the entire situation was distinctly alien. Uncomfortable.

Ruuya could imagine the pendulum swinging in the grandfather clock below, counting the seconds as the night dragged on. She listened to the snoring and the bah-ing, knowing the family was still asleep. Her heart beat faster, and when she was certain the time was right, when her breathing had turned rough, Ruuya forced herself up. Long-used to the dark by now, she crawled out of bed, grabbed her pack sitting at the end, then crept to the door. She grabbed the curved horn acting as a handle and pulled it open, counting seconds and the sounds of a peaceful sleep. The trek down the hallway was quick, the soft, plush rugs muffling her footsteps. Then it was fifteen steps to the bottom of the stairs, avoiding the squeaky second one from the top, and clutching the smooth railing as if her life depended on it.

Pale light shone through the windows, leaving patches of wood and rug exposed. She looked past them to the rest of the house. The entirety of the first floor was strangely transformed without day- or candlelight. Harmless objects cast menacing shadows, watching her creep through the darkness down the stairs, past the kitchen, and into the great room.

The door opened smoothly, just as the bedroom door had. Ruuya slipped in, allowing the door to close behind her with a quiet _thud_. She smiled to herself. The old journal was right where Alysse had left it hours before: closed and neatly placed on the top of the book case. She smiled; yes, Alysse had helped her, but she had also lied to her, even if it was to protect a child.

 _No one is more petty than a petty thief_. It was a small thing, a bit of vengeance, and well...it _was_ a book.

She snatched the journal, sliding it in the large pocket sewn into the cloak of invisibility next to the map. The strange garb was yet another gift that the owl had given her. It was certainly valuable, perhaps the only one in the entirety of the Dark World. And it had been given to a traitor like herself. For a moment, she felt a smidgen of regret.

Then she heard a hoofbeat in the night, and fled, only glancing up after she had left the front yard. Someone had lit an oil lamp - that was Nan's bedroom window - a small lump rose in her throat. She gave a farewell salute, rising three fingers to her forehead, and then stumbled off into the night, slipping out of the town and into the fields beyond.

At every sound, she jumped. Any breeze. She wasn't even where the monsters roamed, but the fields looked different in the night. The shadows were long and deep now, the huts looked like skulls and tombs in the pale, green moonlight. Near the edge of town, where Flow's tower stood, she stopped, considering it. She could comb it for the witch's key to the fortress, but the place was more cluttered than a lizalfos lair. A useless endeavor to pursue, or consider further, so she moved on.

She didn't have time. _If I can find the secret entrance...I won't need it,_ she thought, _I just have to hope nothing has happened to it since Bast was there._

The imagined edge of the village came and went. Ruuya's focus switched from the fortress in the mountains to the dangers on the ground. Jamila would wait - had to wait. She swept her gaze across the plain, scrutinizing every shadow, whether or not it moved.

The awkward, heavy steps brought on by her new accursed boots were impossible to ignore, unfortunately.

Slowly, she began crossing the desolate field. She paused for a moment, wincing when her boots came down harder than she wanted. Nothing moved. No bugs chirped in the weeds and yellowed grass, unlike in the Light World. Save for the slight breeze, the world was silent.

This, she decided, was stupid. Suicidally stupid, even, to be out in the middle of monster-infested fields in the dead of night. She killed leevers and the occasional vulture for a living. The monsters she saw from a distance were taller, quicker, and likely lethal.

She scanned the plains again, wondering how far from the village she had walked. The mountain looked like a sleeping beast in the moonlight, and the red and white eyes of the trees were its sentries.

Ruuya held her breath, then tugged her bottom lip from out between her teeth. The two glowing white lights moved. And the shadow they were attached to wasn't far. It stared at her for a long moment, softly growling. She stared right back, fingers curling at her sides. She swallowed.

"George?" she croaked. The looming creature before her huffed, and nodded. When his eyes left her, the air rushed out of Ruuya's lungs in a sigh of relief.

"Do not linger, small hunter," he said, giving her a short nod. The voice rumbled with authority. "Go before the honor-less curs awaken."

Ruuya found herself nodding, and quickly marching onwards. Her mind filled with echoes of the Lynel's command, and before she knew it, she had crossed the empty expanse and was walking through higher grass. It was much coarser than the kind in Hyrule, more similar to the sparse patches of grass that grew in the desert.

Fitting for a land strangled of life.

What little light the moon provided outlined strangely-capped trees, massive boulders, and huge swaths of missing grass where the ground dipped. This, Ruuya discovered, was not always safe to step into as the three-foot gash in the earth she fell in attested to.

"Gah! Son of a...jackal-faced voe!" Ruuya heaved herself out of the hole, grunting in frustration. Standing, she exhaled heavily, then listened. One heartbeat, two. She counted a hundred heart beats, the silence of the night never wavering, then set off again. She avoided the empty patches after that.

Farther and farther she walked, climbing hills and winding around ponds and lakes. Twice she spotted the bright light of a bonfire a ways off. She ignored them.

The sky grew lighter. The details of the world became more obvious.

Ruuya slowed, and sighed. As comfy as her feet were - and wasn't that a strange thing? - she was tired. Backtracking a half mile, she headed into the skeleton of a ruined house. A couple of crates and pots had been left to decay and collect dust. Taking care not to break any of them, she shoved them into an intact corner, leaving just enough room to huddle behind them. She tossed a couple loose planks on top of the crate, and pushed them over the exposed corner. Then, she hunkered down, knapsack in-between her stomach and legs, and fell asleep.

/-/-/

Like a tired man opening his eyes at the break of day, morning came upon the Village of Outcasts. A pale grey fog had risen from the earth and settled upon the land, making buildings appear as dark monoliths and lantern turn into globes of light in the mist, ghostly and ethereal. Most would not leave their homes on a morning like this, they feared the fog might contain the souls of the damned, cursed to wander the world as shadows of their former selves for all eternity…

It seemed an odd fear, considering that it was the villagers who were most likely the very damned the gods had cursed. At the very least, if one were to ask Alysse, the other villagers were all a quite superstitious bunch.

 _Gods_ , thought Alysse, taking a sip of her tea. She flinched. It was too hot. She sat on her oversized balcony overlooking the manor's front yard, though she could not make out the flowering plants below from such a height. They were obscured by both fog and poor vision. _Bast would say I have grown far too pessimistic. Cynical._

Alysse took another sip, frowned, and sighed, placing it on the end table beside her chair, watching as the steam rose and swirled, eventually intertwining with the red-tainted fog. Perhaps she should have taken a few cubes of sugar as well. She shivered. It was a cold morning, too, perhaps she should brought a shawl or blanket as well...

But she felt she didn't deserved such luxuries. She'd sent another girl to her death all for a fool's errand.

A faint, foolish hope.

And she'd do it again in a heartbeat if it gave her another chance to protect Nan. She would not let that girl die like Bast had. They both had the same tenacious spirit.

What would Bast think? Would she hate her?

She felt a chill at that thought, but doused it with another sip of too-hot tea. She had promises to keep, to Bast and others.

"Mother?" The word sprung from the mists, perhaps Bast's wraith had come for her at last. The shadow of her daughter approached, coalescing into the form of a goat-like person. A very small one, in fact. "Ruu's _gone_."

Ah, so Naneth had found the empty bed it seemed. Alysse nodded, taking another sip of her all-too-bitter tea.

"Did you know?" Naneth approached her chair, carrying a folded blanket in her arms. She plopped this down unceremoniously on Alysse's lap, covered her legs, and then sat on the chair on the opposite side of the small end table. "She stole the goods we were going to give her. Who does that?"

Alysse found it in herself to chuckle. Naneth was still so innocent despite growing up in this darkened realm. This hell. "They were hers, Nan, we did buy them specifically for her journey."

Naneth sighed. "Maa."

"Yes, dear?"

"I...guess it ain't -"

"Isn't."

Nan rolled her eyes. "It _ain't_ the thieving, though, that's bugging me," she said, smiling mischievously. She had used improper grammar on purpose. Both times, apparently. Dear gods, she was becoming more like Bast every passing day. Soon, she'd convince the guards to train her...what then? "She didn't say goodbye."

"Ah."

"Didn't even leave a note or nothin'." She folded her arms, then took something out of her pocket. Sugar cubes. Naneth dropped these into Alysse's tea and then produced a wooden spoon, stirring them in. "It's just not polite, maa."

"Perhaps she didn't want a large send off." Bast hadn't, either. Adventurers and thieves, those were the type that tended to sneak off in the middle of the night and take things you left lying around. She hadn't expected Ruuya to wait for sunrise. Of course the latter did so because they had devious business to be about, but, she had met several adventurers in her time. They usually weren't that much better. "Night is safer in some ways…"

"I guess," Naneth said. "But this is the _Dark World_. There's redead and poes and -"

"Naneth." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Why don't you fetch my lute?"

"I…" she started, then swallowed. "Your hands. I thought they hurt too much to..."

She chose to ignore the worry written clearly on the child's face.

"Ruu didn't loot it did she?" she smiled. That pun tasted like her own cooking.

Naneth moaned. "Maa!"

"And bring some incense."

Naneth tilted her head. Neither her or Joshua beseeched the gods often, she knew the girl wondered why, but Alysse had fervently refused to answer those kinds of questions.

"Perhaps the best we can do is pray," she explained. Though she doubted the gods would care to listen to ones such as them; indeed, if there were any gods at all. Deep down, she had always doubted. Since coming to this world, it seemed the gods were either dead, asleep, or deaf - they did not listen to the prayers of the shadows of men. The gods only cared about punishing those they had damned. For Naneth, however, she could pretend to believe that they still might heed her anyways. "Go. It might be the only hope that poor girl has."

Naneth nodded and scurried back inside. A shadow flickered in the mist, the sun rose bathing the land in rose red sunlight, and two figures stood, a pair of watchmen keeping vigil in the world of the fallen and the damned.

But to Alysse, hope remained dead.

/-/-/

The trip from the village to the mountain's base vexatiously took more time than Ruuya realized. She had been spoiled by horseback and daylight travel for years. Without either, the trek across the darkened countryside was nerve-wracking. Monsters small and large slumbered in groups, wherever the natural curve of caves and formations of rock could shelter them. Ruuya had given both the forests and camps a large berth, unwilling to risk waking a single one of them up, even for a crude weapon or food. Their camps reeked so badly of rotten meat and refuse, though, that even if she had been tempted by the thought of pilfering a weapon or two, she didn't have the bravery to go tip-toeing up to them.

But then the sun would creep over the horizon, the sky lightening and filling her with unease.

She hid. She slept. She watched. The monsters would lie down again, allowing her to crawl out from her hiding space, and she would continue on again.

For several days that had been her routine. Now, peeking through the underbrush from a treeline, she considered what to do about the Lynel stalking around the colosseum grounds. The afternoon light glinted off the weapon in its hand, easily as large as its thigh. She knew something had been wrong from the lack of clearings and fires for so long. She had found a few monsters that dwarfed her by a good dozen feet or so, and they had all been left well enough alone by the smaller ones. Never, though, had she given thought that there might be a battle-scarred Lynel stalking the area.

She sent a silent thank you to the goddess of the sands that she hadn't run down the slope the second she got to the treeline.

Ruuya swallowed. Rubble was strewn about the ground, weeds were plentiful, and the only other simile of covering was a smattering of thin trees further out. They were planted too uniformly to be natural, though. A pathway?

Ruuya huffed into her sleeve, suppressing a cough that chased after. The inside of the ruins had to be inhabited; it was tall, defensible, and gave an advantage against anyone who dared to get close.

Maybe she would have better luck waiting until night.

Ruuya glanced back at the Lynel, then looked again.

It had turned around.

And its head was tilted up.

At her.

She stared, waiting for it to move on. It hadn't seen her tails; they were tied together with vines.

It wouldn't stop staring.

Slowly, Ruuya backed away from the treeline, never breaking eye contact. Branches began to obscure her vision. Maybe it obscured his as well.

Then a savage roar pierced the air, a warm gust blowing past her cheeks. _Dear gods..._

Ruuya scrambled to her feet and ran for all she was worth. Behind her, the sound of hooves grew closer. They stopped, for just a second, and then wood was snapping and crunching, metal slashing through boughs, and _this_ was how she was going to die: run down by a horse-lion-voe-thing that apparently had the eyesight of a _hawk_.

The crashing grew louder, her heart pounded against her chest. The roaring, within and without, was ceaseless, spurring her on. She dove between trees, leaped over debris, and zig-zagged through the woods. Yet the smashing, the stomping, the bellowing followed her. Panting, she dug her claws into the thickest tree in sight, and scurried up into its branches.

Ruuya gasped, catching her breath. Below, the Lynel slowed, and walked to the base of the tree. From her perch a couple dozen feet up, she grinned. The monster eyed her. He rested his massive blade on his back.

Then he took out a bow.

Ruuya's mouth opened. The monster nocked an arrow. The end sparked with yellow arcs.

She dropped to a lower branch, a hearty _crack_ sounding from above. Ruuya looked up at the charred branches, one partially snapped, tingling electricity still. A glance back: the Lynel nocked another arrow, a wide grin ripping its face in half.

Her heart slammed against her chest.

The arrow flew.

She dove out of the tree, rolled, and slid to the side. A moment later, the tree cracked, toppling in her wake, landing on top of her shadow.

 _If I'd waited just one moment to move…_ She swallowed. No, she couldn't think of that. Couldn't consider it. She fled, her bound tails chasing her.

The Lynel did not follow or bellow. But she knew better. She moved through the woods much like before. She couldn't stop, couldn't look, just thread her way forward.

A tree shattered into splinters near her head.

She kept running.

All around her, trees and earth exploded. The Lynel was tracking her without sight, by _smell_ alone. Or maybe it was walking proudly, stalking her. She didn't care to know.

She ran, and then tripped, falling face-first into an open cavity in the earth. _Dear gods,_ she thought, _not now_. She immediately looked up from where she laid; a shadow - the Lynel - leaped over the pit.

It didn't notice her. It didn't come back.

She closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping forward, and breathed out, thanking the goddess of the sands for her good fortune. Opening her eyes, she peeked upwards again out of the hole. Off on the side she tumbled down from, the sunlight glinted off of something.

The tip of a rusted sword, poking through the ground. It certainly explained the pain in her foot.

 _Bast's sword maybe…?_ Climbing out of the pit, she took the hilt of the blade and yanked it out of the earth. Near it was a shield, but it was made of wood, half-rotten, and covered in termites.

That would probably give her lock-jaw. The sword would do. Finally, she could defend herself to some extent. She turned back, glancing at the hole for a moment. Then gasped.

It wasn't just a pit after all. The sides were too smooth, and torch brackets didn't form naturally. _But Alysse said it was in the Colosseum…_ she thought, this time carefully descending into the passage. _Then again, Bast probably wasn't completely lucid the last time she saw her mother._

She'd seen blood lost before. It could make a person suffer from many things from fatigue to delusions. Sticking her hand into her sack, she pulled out the lantern Nan had packed, then she pulled out a bottle, uncorked it, and frowned. It was white, powdery, and definitely not liquid.

 _That's not lantern oil._ She sniffed it, then felt slightly woozy. _Sleeping powder? The hell?_

Ruuya rolled her eyes. Why would Nan think she needed that? She put it back inside the bag, took out the correct bottle, and lit the lantern.

Suddenly, the cavern was lit with an orange glow. Before her was a small opening made of stone and wood. If there ever was a door here, it had rotted off its hinges long ago, and those hinges had been stolen by some beast. Taking a deep breath, she marched into the tunnel, pushing aside a few cobwebs that blocked her way.

She was finally here, or close to it. Hopefully this wasn't some underground labyrinth.

She coughed. ... _shit._

It probably was. Ruuya considered running back out, but then recalled that the Lynel had probably realized it had lost her by now and had backtracked to where she had fallen -

The Lynel roared.

Ruuya fled. Into darkness. Into shadow. It didn't matter. It was either the caverns or death.

She just prayed she'd see sunlight again someday.

/-/-/

_How long have I been here?_

She heard water dripping somewhere in the deep. Her feet hurt. Her stomach rumbled. She didn't know if she had been traveling for minutes, hours, or days.

She didn't know if she'd been going in circles either. Gods, she wished she had some magic string.

 _If only I could make heads or tails of this damn map_ , she thought. She had gotten to some part of the palace - how she did so quickly without going upwards for thousands of feet, she still didn't know - and found the map utterly useless. From what she could fathom, the map didn't even _have_ these passages. It was like the person who had made it - Vaati or his mapmaker - had purposefully left it out.

As if the voe feared his own troops - moblins, dark nuts, wizzrobes, and things - would betray him at a drop of a hat.

Vaati sure was quite paranoid for a super powerful sorcerer. Ruuya shook her head, trudging further into darkness, then stopped. She had come to a large rotunda, floor to ceiling columns forming an inner ring and an outer ring, which was cut by three large stained glass windows in the south.

The largest of the three displayed a picture of Vaati in his prime. With lilac hair, rich, violet robes, a funny hat, deep crimson eyes, and a large red ruby on his forehead, he was a surprisingly handsome voe. She frowned at that thought.

 _Handsome? Really? He's so pale that aged parchment looks tan! You need better choices in voe, Ruu_.

She heard water drip. Close. Closer than she remembered. It wasn't steady, it...wasn't water.

It hadn't been water this whole time, she realized.

Without hesitation, she scampered out of the rotunda, running blindly through the palace. As soon as she could not hear the "water" drip, she leaned against the wall, slipping down until

she rolled up into a ball, holding her legs against her chest.

 _Coward,_ she accused. _This palace is up on a mountain surrounded by ice and snow. It's probably just leaking, somewhere it's not -_

_Drip._

She swallowed.

_\- a big -_

_Drip._

_\- deal._

But it was better to live than to be sorry and dead. Ruuya took the invisibility cloak from her sack and the green potion Nan had packed. The potion would give her temporary magic to fuel the cloak's power; hopefully it would last long enough so she could escape whatever monster had found her.

Ruuya took a draught then threw on the cloak, slipping down another corridor.

She'd been right about this place being a labyrinth. While lavishly decorated with statues, paintings, and hanging colored cloth, nothing in the layout made sense. Large staircases would lead down to single rooms. Turning the same way twice would sometimes lead her not to a third hall connecting to the first, but imposing statues of the ancient sorcerer. And there were more than enough dead ends that made her backtrack, only to go another way to avoid heavy, rhythmic clanking.

The palace was absolutely maddening.

She supposed that was something else all leaders had in common: obviously strange things done in the name of nonsense. Or paranoia.

_Drip._

_Clank. Clank._

Ruuya swallowed hard. Cloak or not, she did not want to meet the sources of the sounds in this hell-maze. She turned down another hallway, and through the first normal-looking door she found. Inside it was dark as pitch, but quiet. She closed the door, and pressed herself against it, waiting.

She reached for the lantern, and briefly lit the room. Better to know what lurked in the darkness while hiding in it.

Ruuya's fingers twitched. It wasn't a room; it was another small corridor.

_Clank._

_Drip._

Ruuya shut off the lantern, took a breath, and marched further on. A cool draft brushed her legs. A way outside?

A familiar tingling spread through her from toe to head. The sounds of her pursuers faded into nothing.

Ruuya stopped walking. The ground beneath her feet sounded...off. Different. There was no soft carpeting under her boots, only uneven paving stones of various grey hues. There were no windows here, no slits which she could use to look out and see the snow covered mountains. But the large hall smelled more damp and earthen, as though she were somehow underground. Then she noticed something in the dark. The glint of metal bars.

Cages lined the walls like books on a shelf. The prisoners were long forgotten, each one an old skeleton clothed in the remnants of rags. In one cage, she thought she recognized a wizzrobe's beak, though she couldn't be sure. Perhaps Vaati had imprisoned a giant cucco instead.

 _It's the palace dungeons. Didn't Alysse say they were under the colosseum…?_ Ruuya took out her map and smiled, noting the words "prison" and "Darknut" in the northern portion. It meant Vaati's prison couldn't be far. Only a little farther and she'd finally...be able to rest her feet a little, if she was lucky. All this running through the fortress had exhausted her.

Whatever she would find down in these dungeons had better be worthwhile.

A loud clank echoed down the corridor, followed by the distinct sound of a large voe wearing a suit of armor. She dove to the side by instinct, running down another passageway lined with prison cells on either side, but instead of escaping the prison guard, she nearly ran into the back of a large voe in black armor standing watch. It swiveled around, one hand on the hilt of its sword, the other on the sword's ornate scabbard.

 _Shit. That's no voe_. Fierce, red eyes glared at her from under its thick, horned visor. She swallowed, but found her feet frozen, locked in place by fear. _It's a darknut._

It swung its broadsword, the blade nearly missing the tip of her pointed ears. It was a message: go or die. The darknut gave her a curt nod.

It had a sense of honor, at least; but Ruuya knew she couldn't flee this fight. This was the creature guarding Vaati's prison. Beyond it rested her goal, but how could she get around it?

 _Pretend to run,_ she thought. _Trick it to think you've given up then come up with a plan. You're a thief - a conwoman - you can do this._

Those thoughts sounded distinctly like Veil. It felt good to hear that voice again.

She nodded, turned, and left down the corridor which she had entered the small circular chamber from. Soon, she ducked into one of the prison cells. It was a small square room, mold clinging to the earthen walls. Lengths of rusty chain stretched from the center to the blackened back wall. Ruuya had a brief thought for the pitiful prisoner who was now long dead, then eyed the scrap of paper left under a shackle. By the dim lighting of the torches lining the passage, she could make out something or other scrawled on it. Prisoners wouldn't be given precious paper in a world such as this. Thus, instinctively, she picked it up and pocketed it.

The clanking was coming again. Ruuya turned Bast's rusted sword over in her hand. She was unfamiliar with its shape and weight. For a quick skirmish it was better than nothing, but against a skilled opponent, using it was just asking for death. She tucked the grip of the sword under one arm, and opened her bag, sorting through the contents. The magic potion was half gone; some roots and herbs had mixed with her tinder; the small knife was laughable; and purple dust had settled over the mouth of a small bag.

She paused, then brought out the sleeping powder, holding the bottle aloof. Would it even work on a darknut?

_Clank. Clank._

What other choice did she have? It was either this, or give up. And she would not surrender, not after she had come so damn far.

Ruuya took a deep breath, hefted the travel bag over her shoulder again, and opened the small bottle of powder. She held the bottle out away from her at arm's length. Breathing shallowly, she poured out a handful, and waited.

When the clanking was only meters away, she breathed in deeply, brought her arm closer, and held her breath.

The darknut stepped into view. Ruuya threw a handful of powder straight at the helmet's opening.

Ruuya stepped away, stuffing her nose inside her shirt. Immediately, the monster began coughing, a slight sway to its stance. Unwilling to let go of the advantage, Ruuya took out another handful of white dust, and threw it at its face. The darknut stumbled into the cell, dragging its sword along the ground. Ruuya, breath held, hopped away, then threw another handful of powder. The darknut stumbled and she ran around it, back out into the stone corridor.

The sound of metal striking stone, of a sword falling to the ground, reverberated throughout the hallway, sending chills up her spine.

Ruuya raised her head and gasped for air. She waited, breaths quickening.

The clanking did not start again.

Daring to look back at the darknut, she crept back to the cell. Inside, the knight laid upon the ground, his great blade out of reach. Listening to the slow, deep breaths, she smiled tremulously.

The darknut, the Jackal of Death, had slumped down and fallen asleep, head against its chest. It snored soundly, as dead to the world as a slumbering child.

Sending a silent thank you to Nan, Ruuya corked the bottle and carefully turned to go, eyes still roving the prison cell. Then took a step backwards. Lying by the warrior's waist was a large decorated key. Fingers twitching, she filched it, and raced back down the corridor. She slipped the sleeping powder back into the sack, took hold of the rusted sword again, and wiped off the leftover bits of powder on her pants. No dripping or clanking. She was free.

Well. As free as anyone could get in this damned maze, but she would take it.

The corridor quickly ended at a wide metal door. An engraving of a wide-open eye had been carved into the center. Judging by the rough lines and uneven gouges, it likely hadn't been in the original plans. Ruuya tapped her thigh. She had come this far in search of an answer, any answer. Yet, the door had no knobs or handles that she could see.

Humming, she brought out the gaudy key. The grip was practically nonexistent, replaced with a flat, solid circle and the picture of an eye.

Of course the demon would have a key for exploring further into the hell-maze. Of course. Why did demons have to be so dramatic?

She prodded the eye on the door, only stopping when the pupil drew back, revealing a strangely-shaped hole. She slid the key in place, then twisted. Inside the door, something clinked. Gears spun. Tumblers fell into place. Like music, almost, a strange metallic melody arising in the dark. She took a step back, and the door slid open, retracting into the wall.

Slowly, she entered the chamber beyond, the door slammed shut the moment she was through. She rounded the room, mesmerized by the giant, floating crystal at its center, floating above a stone pedestal. Inside it rested a voe encased in an eternal sleep.

She placed a hand on its smooth surface, staring past her reflection and looking at him. The voe inside the crystal was frail and pale, nearly a corpse. His violet robes, ragged, his lilac-white hair long, greyed, and covered in soot. For a moment, she pitied him.

"For such a great lord," she said, her voice seemed to echo despite that it rose barely above a whisper, "you look like shit."

She looked away from the stone, searching the walls for anything that might release him from his prison. She saw nothing; no eye-switches, no-glass switches, not even a few unlit torches. She looked up at the ceiling; there was nothing there either. She padded across the entire floor. Still no switch of any kind.

The room was otherwise empty, except for the floating crystal, its occupant, and the round pedestal it floated above. How was she supposed to free him? Could she? She had no magic of her own, no real weapons beside Bast's rusty sword. She'd gotten so far, only to find him - still alive, even - and find out that the whole damn thing had been for naught.

She slammed a fist a fist against the stupid crystal. Then sighed. Frustrated.

 _Dammit_. Ruuya sat down on the edge of the pedestal, bashing her head against the crystal, then covering her face in her paws. Tears damped her fur. _All this effort, and it was worthless._

What would she tell the others? That she had found him and failed anyways? That would be fantastic news! Worse: what would she tell Nan? How could she live knowing - no, not knowing if Jamila was alright?

She stood, then, in one last moment of rage, slammed her foot into the stone pedestal.

It _gave_.

Suddenly, the room filled with a blinding bright light, the crystal breaking into millions of pieces. Vaati fell to his hands and knees, then gasped, coughing.

"Are you alright?" she asked, offering a hand, intent on helping him to his feet.

He slapped it away, weakly, holding up his hand. A wispy red glow wreathed his wrist. Yet no magic sprung forth from his fingertips. Vaati looked at his hand, and scowled.

Ruuya humphed in dismay, placing a hand on her hip. What good was an all-powerful sorcerer without his magic?

Din Aflame! He was alive, awake, and completely useless anyways.

"Do I look alright to..." he started, blinking once. He stared at her with blood red eyes. "What in the hell is a damn _keaton_ doing here?"

What an asshole.

"Rescuing you, unfortunately."

"Rather sleep than that," he muttered, he crawled back from her, curling his hand like a claw. "Be gone, you fiend."

Great. He hated her. She glared.

"You're mistaken, you idiot." That probably wasn't the best way to put it, but Ruuya's feet ached. Her back ached. Even muscles she didn't know the names of ached. She was too exhausted for all this. "I'm a Gerudo."

"Ha."

"And, like it or not," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling the former sorcerer to his feet despite his weak attempts to refuse her aid. "We - "

Something loud echoed in the hallway. The darknut had awoken. It was breaking down the door, slamming it's large blade against it. For a moment, she thought it couldn't open it...but the door began to give.

_Dear gods. Not now. Please._

"- need to get going. Now."

"There's a teleporter in the back," he said, pointing to a round disc she hadn't noticed before. It was alight with a strange ethereal glow, streaming up to the heavens. "There's _always_ one in a chamber like this one."

She raised an eyebrow. "But what if you escaped?"

He laughed, shaking his head and muttering about "idiot keatons". Ruuya thought it a valid question.

"Let's go," she said.

They limped onto the pad, and once more, Ruuya tingled and disappeared into the light.


	6. Mirror, Mirror

The tingling feeling came to a stop and Ruuya realized that they were still in the palace. The hall they had appeared in was much like the others she had passed through, save for the large windows with worn maroon curtains. Each one looked out on the white snows of Hebra, draping over the landscape and rising in pillars far below. She still didn't understand how the palace could be so warm, but was grateful for it.

Immediately, Vaati let go of Ruuya's arm as though he had been bitten by a rattlesnake. He shook his hand, stepping back. Ruuya placed her hands on her hips.

"So," she said, feeling both awkward and tired as hell as the adrenaline melted into exhaustion, "where exactly did we end up?"

He glanced around wordlessly instead of answering.

"Vaati?"

" _Lord_ Vaati." Dear gods, really? "If it's all the same to you, you stupid keaton -"

"I'm a Gerudo."

"- I'm trying to think. So be quiet. You're lucky I haven't disposed of you yet."

_With what magic_? She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. It was surprisingly warm. Maybe the palace had some kind of heating spell intertwined into its brick and mortar. She'd read of such things in some books on magic theory, but had never been able to make heads or tails of it in practice. She…

Ruuya jerked her head up. Was she really that tired? The little voe stood before her, tapping his sandaled foot against the floor, his crimson eyes sparkling violet in the ethereal blue light that lit this part of the palace. Instead of fear, however, Ruuya stared back, smirking slightly.

"So?" she asked. "Done thinking?"

"Why did a keaton rescue me?" he asked. "Of all the scum in this land, you filthy creatures are the absolute worst."

Well. This was going terribly. "I already told you," she said with a sigh, "I'm a Gerudo. I was sent to this world and turned into this...this." She gestured to all of herself.

Vaati sneered. "Alright," he said. "Why did a _Gerudo_ save me? You must want something from me." Ruuya gave him a cursory once-over, but said nothing. What could she even want from an impotent mage? Vaati tapped his sandal again. "Well? Out with it!"

Ruuya smirked instead. Smarmy little bundle of vulture droppings, this one. She waved a paw in front of her face, the sharp claws springing from her middle fingers in a rude gesture.

It didn't make him so much as flinch.

"Your people want you back," she said at last. "They worship you, like some kind of god."

His eyes brightened slightly. Dangerously. She didn't much like that look. "That could be useful…," he said, mostly to himself. "What is your price?"

"Price?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Yes, your price, your recompense. There must be something you're interested in. Otherwise you wouldn't have come up here in the first place."

Ruuya lazily waved a paw. "You have nothing I want," she said. She could feel herself slipping down the heated wall, part of her longing to drift asleep. The wall was beginning to get far too comfortable.

Vaati released a dismissive snort. "I don't believe that. You're a keaton. Using people is in your blood."

Ruuya sputtered, "What - how many times -"

"No." He raised a hand, showing her his palm. A signal that she stop. That gesture seemed to be universal. "This is the Dark World. People who fall into it take forms which reflect their true nature. The wise become owls. Foolishly kind people become bunnies. Manipulative conwomen like you? They turn into foxes and keatons."

She glared. He grinned. Damn. What did it say about Vaati that he still looked so very human? What did it say about humanity itself?

Vaati lowered his hand, then crossed his arms. "You did not come all this way, fox," he said, "just to release me."

"I didn't even know you were here," said Ruuya. "I thought maybe to find some treasure...or a way back… A portal. There were legends about it in the Village of Outcasts."

He laughed. It was a harsh, hollow sound. "There are no portals. There were two, once, a long time ago. But both have been lost since. You are stuck here until the end of your days."

A chill ran through Ruuya's gut, emptiness left in its wake. Her self-imposed quest had been for naught. Bast's death had been for naught. Mind whirling, Ruuya slumped further down the wall, finally hitting the floor. It was warm, too. "So, all I'll bring back is some diminutive, useless mage," she said, leaning her head back and staring up at the ceiling. "Dear Din."

Vaati suddenly straightened his stance. He sputtered, enraged, "Useless?! I am the most powerful being in this realm, fool! _You_ are the insignificant one here! And if you believe I'll be going anywhere with you, you are mistaken!"

"Ha." Ruuya glanced back at him, her eyes half-open, she smirked. "You're going to stay in this palace, with all these monsters that, from what I can tell, want to kill you?" Ruuya paused, letting that sink in. "Without food. Without drink. You'll be dead in three days, tops."

He grimaced as though he had been forced to eat something bitter. His arm shook briefly, and with a forced calm, he replied, "Fine. We'll travel together to this...Village of Outcasts. However, don't mistake this for anything other than a truce."

Ruuya nodded. That had been too easy. _He's a slippery one,_ Veil's voice crept forward from the back of her mind. _You need to watch him. He's using you._

"I will have to gather some things from my chambers," he began, walking slowly down towards a set of double doors, a large eye carved into their wooden surface. It looked like the same symbol as the golden eye on his sock cap. "I would tell you to stand watch, but unfortunately, I can't trust you."

Because she was a keaton. Not only was the old man magic-less, but he seemed paranoid, too. Ruuya rolled her eyes. She had a feeling she would come to do that a lot in the near future.

Vaati pushed open one of the doors, and Ruuya followed after him. Her eyes flickered from the back of his hole-riddled cape to the room beyond, and she slowed, coming to a halt in the entryway. She gawked, jaw slack.

It was a library. A small one, but no less wondrous for its size. Filled with shelves that topped out just below the vaulted ceiling, each one filled with cloth- or leather-bound books or old, glowing scrolls with slightly yellowed pages. Beautiful tomes covered in dust, turned a rich amber by age and frayed at the edges. Time had taken its toll on these magnificent pieces of art but they were still...so...beautiful. Ruuya reached up to take a brown book with golden leathers from its shelf, slipping it into her hands. It looked like it was in ancient Hylian, so old she couldn't begin to understand, but it was priceless. A treasure.

Ruuya stuffed it into her satchel.

Vaati didn't notice. A grin spread across her face. Perhaps if she was lucky, the old bat wouldn't realize what she had done. Despite finding that she couldn't read most of the titles - the books were all vastly outdated, many in some form of ancient Hylian or other ancient languages - she became immersed in the task, plucking any book that looked interesting from the shelves and stuffing it into the bag. Thankfully, like most sacks made by Hylians, it could fit far more than its size suggested. She grinned like a child who had stolen sweetcakes before dinner, reaching up for a green tome that was nearly as large as her head.

Something solid slammed against the side of the bookcase. "What are you doing?" Vaati spat.

Shit. Ruuya stumbled backwards and slipped, dragging the heavy book with her to the floor. She landed on her rear, the fall cushioned by fur. The book followed, landing with a _thump_ right next to her foot.

He sighed, picking up the tome she had dropped. While he was gone, he'd donned far less ragged clothing. Gone was the homeless vagabond she had rescued, and in his place stood a king. _Or,_ she thought, _perhaps, the long lost emperor in the painting in the rotunda_.

Even his hair shimmered slightly, dripping with water as though he'd just taken a bath and had time to dry it some. Had she really been distracted that long? Ruuya blinked and glanced at his hair again. It was definitely a light lilac, she decided, not white.

"You're a _book_ thief?" Vaati asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ruuya nodded, staring up at him blankly. Cleaned up as he was, he almost bordered on pretty. If a man nearing forty dressed like an extravagant grape could be called that. _The hell, Ruu?_ she asked, disgusted by that thought. _He's like thousands of years old. That's - no, it's merely stating facts: a voe can be both handsome and deplorably ancient._

"Ha. That's almost admirable," he said wryly. He opened the book with one hand, smirking to himself as he read aloud its context. It sounded like gibberish to her. "This is in Ancient Labrynnan."

She tilted her pointed ears towards him. It must have indicated her confusion as clearly as raising an eyebrow would have if she had still held human form.

Vaati stared at her. "You _have_ heard of Labrynna, right?" he asked.

"No," she answered. Ruuya frowned, searching her memories for any mention of the land. The silence stretched. Vaati replaced the tome. Then: "Wait. Yeah, but it...it's only a legend. Even the Hylians said so."

In their books, of course. They were far too dangerous to approach personally.

Somehow, the sorcerer's face paled further, becoming as white as the snow outside. "I…," he began after a moment, placing a hand on one of the book shelves to steady himself. He swallowed. "I have been away longer than I first thought."

How old _was_ this voe?

It would have been so easy to bring it up. The things he had seen, the things he had lived through. The one called Usurper, and all of Flow's claims of his fate. But instead, she asked, "Are you going to help me up?"

Vaati turned, staring back at her over his shoulder. "Do you take me as a gentleman, keaton?" he said. This time, she noted that he had grabbed an ornate staff from...wherever he'd been while she'd stolen his books. Probably his bedroom. Given his weaken state, he probably couldn't help her up even if he'd wanted to. Pity flashed across her face. "Girl...we don't have all day. There's something we need to check before we go."

With that, Vaati strode away. Ruuya stood and caught up to him, then coughed, catching his attention. "Why hasn't anything come through the door?" she asked. "A darknut was after us, and we've been here awhile now."

"Thirty minutes, more or less," he said as they walked, pointing towards a large clock that rested over a red brick fireplace that hadn't bore flames in centuries. "These rooms are warded. The things in them protected by spells I worked long ago."

"But your magic's dead," she said, frowning. "How'd we -"

Immediately, Vaati rounded on her, the top of his staff in her face. "My magic is not dead, you foolish girl!" he growled, sneering at her. "Do you always ask this many questions, _thief_?"

"Yes," she said, keeping her voice purposefully solemn. "It's part of the job description."

"Sounds like the perfect way to get caught," he replied, reaching for a door handle. They stepped into his study. "The wards are linked to my residue. It's the magical marker which signifies that a spell or ward belongs to you."

"But…"

"Bah! Talking about the intricacies of magic with an uneducated simpleton is pointless," he said. "Simply put, the spell recognizes me." As if it were an afterthought, he muttered, "No matter how much time has passed."

Ruuya idly looked around the room. The study was grand, though not as remarkable as his personal library. There were so few shelves filled with books and paper.

The rest of the study was richly adorned in faded reds and purples and yellows. They draped over the tables and drawers in cloths, and rolled across the floor in the same designs as the tapestries she had seen everywhere else. Shoddy paintings hung on the wall, roughly depicting the outside world. Squat buildings, long brown strokes ending in fuzzy greens, and blue. Blue rivers, blue waterfalls, blue skies. With a start, Ruuya realized that they were all drawings of the Light World. With as long as she had spent stalking through this realm and wandering the endless halls of the palace, she had almost forgotten what that world looked like. Golden sunlight, blue skies, moonlit nights. Those things nearly seemed like myths now, though she hadn't been here too long.

"Don't touch anything," Vaati said, a practiced edge to his voice. "I'll know if you do."

Vaati crossed the room, walking over to the large desk and opening one of its bottom drawers. From it, he withdrew a small disc-like object with a small protrusion on one side. He glanced at it, and sighed. "Still," he whispered. With her keaton-enhanced ears, however, she found she didn't have to strain to listen. "Useless…"

He glanced back at her, then frowned. Before he could put it back, though, she joined him, receiving a glare from the former sorcerer.

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. "A mirror…?" she asked, tilting her head. There was something odd about it, in the way it shimmered. She couldn't quite place her finger on it... Damn, her hair was a mess.

Vaati spoke up. "Once it allowed for travel between this world and the World of Light. But I could never get the accursed thing to work." He tapped the glass, underlining the crack in its surface with a long, slender finger. "Or fix it."

"Did it always do that?" she asked, finally realizing what was so weird about didn't reflect the face of a keaton. Instead, staring back was her old face, that of a Gerudo. A very worn and tired Gerudo who could use a week off to sleep. The old man next to her could probably use a good meal to help fill out his cheeks.

"Your true form," he said, nodding his head. "It appears you weren't lying."

There was something off about the whole situation, but Ruuya didn't have the energy to fathom it. She stowed the idea in the back of her head, and rolled her eyes. "I thought you _knew_ that," she said.

"One can never be so certain when dealing with keatons," he replied. Was it...his reflection? No. That, at least, made sense. "Let's be off, girl. There's a teleporter in the back. It should take us to the secret entrance near the colosseum."

He deposited the mirror on the surface of the desk, grabbed a garish violet bag from the plush chair, and headed towards yet another door. She frowned, looking at the mirror, then back at him, then once more at the mirror in bewilderment.

_He's just going to leave it here?_ she thought, frowning. Staring at her true image, she unconsciously began reaching for its reflective surface, pawing it softly.

"Vaa-"

A sudden jolt. Her hands tingled. The world went black. What had she done?

Ruuya gasped, choking on darkness. The air was stiff, dry, cold. The soft fibers of the violet fabric beneath her feet had turned to cold, damp stone. The distant sound of twinkling water filled chamber, unheard by human ears for hundreds of years. But most important of all, she felt no tails, no fur, and no claws.

Ruuya was Gerudo again.

_I'm back_ , she thought, grinning. _I'm back!_

She nearly bounced for joy, uncaring of how small the cave could be. But then she felt something odd; a sort of tugging sensation from within. A second jolt rocked her, a prickling sensation spreading everywhere, her vision swam, the world spun, her fur regrew. Ruuya staggered back, tripped over her own feet, and slammed hard against the side of Vaati's desk.

She blinked, slumping against the hardwood, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She gasped for breath, tasting nausea in the back of her throat.

"By Din's Flames, girl!" Vaati exclaimed, leaning over her. Shock was written plainly on his pale face, his eyes widened, brow knitted. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I touched the mirror," Ruuya croaked. Gods. Her stomach...

He picked up the mirror from the desk, showing it to her. The glass, which merely had a large crack in it before, was now completely shattered into thousands of pieces. All it seemed to reflect now was a blue sky, without a cloud to be found. A small part of her found it amazing that all the pieces had stayed in the frame.

The rest of her, however, was too sick to care.

"You broke it," he said, then added after a moment: " _more_."

"It spat me out into the World of Light," she said, then coughed, noting that the world still spun slightly. "Is it supposed to leave me this winded?"

He said nothing for a few moments. Frowning deeply, he poked gingerly at the mirror. "Odd."

It did nothing, of course. It didn't even sparkle like it had before.

"I need to examine this," he decided, his gaze returning to her. There was no concern in his crimson eyes, not even the smallest drop of compassion. "Get some rest, the bed's behind that door."

It didn't matter that, most likely, he just wanted to get rid of her. Ruuya was too sick, tired, and exhausted to care. She nodded and crawled past him, entering the room beyond. She barely registered making it to something plush before falling into a dreamless sleep.

/-/

Vaati was not sure what, exactly, to make of this thief-girl.

That puzzle was now curled up in a ball on the floor of his bedroom, right next to the bed. The silly thing hadn't even laid on it. Instead, she had cuddled up with the edge of the red and violet quilt which draped over the side of the feather mattress. Considering she was Gerudo and used to sleeping on sand, she'd probably never seen a real bed before and just didn't know what to do with it.

_That_ was _magic exhaustion_ , he thought, sitting at his desk, his gaze returning to the shattered mirror. Its surface only reflected the pale blue light of the Light World now, more useless than a fairy without wings. _And she did disappear…_

Why had this happened? He rested his head in his hands, rubbing his temples.

"The pathway magic of old didn't tax the user," he said, though he didn't expect a reply. The palace walls couldn't talk back, no matter how much magic had been woven into them. Still, he'd always found it more productive to talk to himself, rather than let his thoughts linger inside his skull. "The spell was self-containing, I do remember that."

He sighed, frustrated. He had found since waking up that the memories of the hundred or so years before his imprisonment were fragmented at best. He knew he had gathered forces in the Dark World to prepare an army to fight against the Forces of Light and that he had looked for some way to create a path between this realm and that one.

And then the Pig had foiled all his plans. Vaati slammed the side of his staff against the desk in anger, causing the mirror on top to jiggle slightly, a few of its pieces coming loose. He grumbled, frustrated that he had let his anger get the best of him. The glass was an important, intricate part of this magical object, he couldn't - Vaati frowned.

The missing pieces had revealed something beneath. Letters. Words. A spell carved into its frame?

"No," he said, "you - no, everyone had always made that assumption, Vaati. We all thought its maker had infused the glass with magic, but it is older than even you, fool. No one recalls how it was even made or why it broke. Why it became so hard to make portals afterwards... There are no books or scrolls on its creation, that's why you spent so long trying to open that damn pathway. Perhaps..."

He picked up the mirror, and tapped it gingerly against the desk. More pieces came loose until the remnants of the old mirror were a pile of glass shards on his desk.

"Yes!" he said, running a finger over the spell carved into the ancient frame. It was amazingly legible, even though the words were faded and some of its letters had been worn away. It was as though someone had removed the glass and purposefully scratched the letters off with a file. The magic used to originally power the object had disappeared as a result, and… "Ah, it was done on purpose."

Vaati laughed, stuck a hand in his drawer, and withdrew a sheet of magically preserved parchment, a plugged bottle of ink, and a quill. The inscription may not have survived the centuries, but whomever had attempted the sabotage hadn't tried nearly hard enough. He would copy it, make note of it, and rework it. Perfect it.

Then find someone who could power his spell.

Smiling, Vaati worked, until the first ray of red sunlight dispensed the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SQ: Veil is dead, Ruu.
> 
> (Kidding.)


	7. A Fool's Well

Retreading old ground, Ruuya reflected, was not as exciting as exploring it the first time. Since they had bypassed the colosseum Lynel, the entire trip back to the village had been almost underwhelming. The lumbering giants and crowds of monsters had been carefully avoided, and resting spots had been well selected. Vaati had a familiarity with the Realm of Darkness that was simply uncanny. It almost seemed like he could sense the monsters well before they caught sight of them. Now, on the last stretch of their journey, Ruuya could just make out Flow's tower over the tops of the red-eyed trees. Its grey bricks were slightly dampened by the light drizzle, almost seeming to glow in the misting rain. Soon, they'd be back. Nan, Flow, and most of the villagers would welcome them, celebrating the return of their...god.

But Alysse... Alysse was _waiting_. She probably would not welcome them with open arms. Ruuya suddenly found that she couldn't swallow. Maybe she shouldn't have had such sticky fingers.

"That pointed rooftop over there," said Vaati, snapping her out of her thoughts. She was happy for the distraction. "Am I correct in assuming that it's in the village?"

Ruuya nodded. "Yeah. Almost." It was technically on the outskirts on the far side.

"Finally," Vaati huffed, his shoulders sloping forward slightly in exhaustion. The old man no longer bothered to hide his weariness around her, despite that she was sure he wanted to. Their hike through the countryside had more than worn him out; they would've been back almost a day and a half ago if it weren't for all the breaks the old sorcerer had needed to take. He definitely needed more exercise. "I didn't want to spend yet another night in this godsforsaken swamp."

Ruuya grunted in reply. The fields leading up to the Village of Outcasts were soft underfoot, but that didn't make them a _swamp_. Although, she supposed if one were stuck in a cold, dry palace for centuries, the outside world would probably look like the wetlands.

If Vaati had actually been paying attention, he would've noticed the outer farms and homesteads some time ago. She rolled her eyes. _So much for the people's legendary, caring champion,_ she thought. _What am I really bringing back: a hero or a fraud?_

Feeling a sudden chill, she realized it was probably the latter.

 _For now, it probably doesn't matter_ , she thought, _He's th_ _e best chance we've got to get outta this mess._ It may have been cruel, but it was better to live life in the sun and heat than to spend all of one's remaining days in shadow and fear. She was doing what had to be done. 'Sometimes, there were only bad choices, Ruu, but the wise woman chose the better one,' or so her mother had said.

Ruuya forced a smile onto her face. "It's a bit larger than a village," she said. "More like a small city, but I guess the name just stuck. They'll be excited to meet you."

It was probably an understatement.

"Wonderful," he said, a cheerful but sly smile spreading across his face. Then he stopped, blinked, and stared at someone in surprise. She stood in the shadow of the broken statue of Vaati – this one missing an arm instead of its head – a small short sword tied to her hip and a shirt of glittering mail over her normal, sturdy woolen tunic. It was Nan. When had she acquired that armor and blade?

Nan's eyes brightened, grin alight. "It's you!" she cried.

Barely glancing at Vaati, Nan ran up to Ruuya and threw her arms around her, holding her in a firm embrace.

Ruuya froze for a brief moment, arms resting at her side in shock, but then returned the hug. "It's good to see you too, Nan," she said. Her eyebrows rose, and she pulled back. "But...how did you know that we'd be coming through this way?"

"Mr. Friend told me!" said Nan, faint traces of laughter in her voice. "He was bouncing around the fields when he saw you and he said you had a hobo with you, but he wasn't real sure 'cause Mr. Bullard headbutted him somethin' fierce, and he landed in a bunch of muck and had to roll home to wash up. But he told me as soon as he could that you were comin' and you're here!"

Ruuya smothered a small laugh. Footsteps approached from behind, and Vaati stepped a foot closer to Nan than was comfortable. He glared. "Little girls should be seen and not heard," he hissed. "Run home."

Nan didn't even flinch. Instead she looked Vaati up and down, humming to herself the whole time.

"You don't look that much like a hobo," she said, tilting her head. "Or a monster. Why do you look human?" Nan gasped, her eyes twinkling. "Are you an animal? Are you an animal that fell into the Dark World? Oh, you poor thing!"

Vaati snarled. "Listen here, you -"

"We have to get you to Aunty Flow right away!" Nan cried. She reached out and grabbed Vaati's wrist. Then, much like she had on Ruuya's first day in the village, she proceeded to drag him along with her, ignoring his complaints and snarls.

"Stop it!" he said. "Who in hell do you think -"

"You look a lot like the Great Vaati," Nan said. She was practically hopping down the road, Vaati still in tow despite his efforts to rip her hand off of him. He paused for a moment as Nan continued to rattle on. "But he's been gone for a long, long time, so you can't be him. And what we look like on the outside is what we are on the inside, so you must've liked him a whole lot!" Nan gasped loudly. "You must be his reincarnation! Flow _definitely_ has to see you!"

 _That is...actually be a good theory_ , Ruuya thought, amused. _Unfortunately, it's not true._ Perhaps a reincarnation would be less of an ass.

As Nan continued talking over Vaati's protests, Ruuya sighed. She moved, trailing behind them, listening as Nan chittered and chattered the once-powerful sorcerer into submission.

Maybe Flow would be happy to see her. It wasn't as if Ruuya had stolen from her before -

Oh.

Ruuya tapped the bag hanging by her hip. It was filled to bursting with reference books, and her own pilfered treasures. Perhaps Alysse hadn't told the cloud woman about the theft.

She could only hope.

Ruuya looked up and let her eyes wander. A horned half-man with goat hooves was standing stock still, gaze turned towards Nan and her helpless guest. With a start, Ruuya noticed that a scaly person on the other side of the road was staring at the two as well. As they continued to weave their way through the village, Ruuya began noticing how many looks were being sent their way. Whispers were exchanged. Gossip resounded. Soon, a small group started to follow in their wake, a mix of all kinds of animals, monsters, and beasts. Vaati had since grown silent, choosing to observe his surroundings instead. Nan, the perpetual chatterbox, hadn't slowed down in any sense of the word, and the old mage was struggling to keep up, his feet sliding across the slick cobblestone streets.

Ruuya had a feeling that even if Vaati hadn't been worn down by the ages, Nan would have still been able to keep her iron grip on him. Perhaps that stubbornness was why she had turned into a goat, rather than a parrot.

By the time they had reached Flow's tower, a crowd had formed around the building. It was nothing compared to the gathering behind Ruuya, however. It seemed as if every last villager had turned out to catch sight of their old, fabled hero.

Waiting there, separate from the crowd, was Flow, floating right in front of her enclosed garden. Her head cloud was a bright white, and her arms were folded, each arm stuck into opposites sleeves which flowed _opposite_ of the westerly wind.

Ruuya moved off to the side, hoping to draw less attention as Flow opened her arms, smiling.

"Lord Vaati," she proclaimed to cheers, "you have returned to us! I thought you had perished against the Usurper all those years ago. Those of us who remained searched for you, but to no avail. Please, tell us, how have you came back to us at long last?"

A smirk spread across Vaati's face. It dripped with smug confidence, of control. Ruuya took a step back, uncertain and discomforted by this sudden change. He wriggled his arm out of Nan's suddenly lax grip, and straightened his back, strolling up to the ancient witch with a confident step.

"My dear mage," he said with a flourish. "You should know better than to believe your eyes. None can kill me. No, I was sealed away, deep inside my palace." He chuckled. It was a high and eerie sound, as if it had come from an otherworldly being.

Considering where she was, Ruuya supposed that should have explained things. But it made her stomach twist with renewed unease.

Vaati went on unabated. "I was far too powerful a threat, so they did the only thing they could, and locked me away. But I was freed by one of your own, and now..." Vaati spread his arms wide, flaring out his cape dramatically. "Here I am."

People were staring at Ruuya. Some gasped, others seemed confused. Nan bounced in place, practically vibrating with energy as she looked between Vaati and the grimacing keaton.

Flow covered her mouth. "Master... Please forgive me. I held the key to your palace for centuries. Had I known you were up there, I..."

Vaati held up a hand, palm facing outwards. Ruuya held in a sigh. "Precisely. What did you expect?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "For the enemy to say he had secluded me from your sight, hidden in a secret chamber underground? I think not. No, they not only sealed me away in my own palace and stole freedom from my hands, they humiliated me. Tell me," - Vaati reached out a hand, curling his fingers inwards, as if gesturing for Flow to come closer to give him something - "does that treacherous pig still live?"

Ruuya frowned. That was the second time he had referred to a "pig" with such disdain. _Was it a pig-like person?_ she thought. _A slob? Some kind of monster?_ She doubted that either of the ancient sorcerers would appreciate an interruption. Her questions would have to wait.

Flow shook her head. "No, Lord Vaati. If he still lived, his name would have been remembered in the Light World. When Ruuya came to me, she knew nothing of the beast. Even when I spoke of him, she had no recollection of having heard of him before. The Usurper's intrusion into the Light World failed. He is no more."

A grin slowly crept up Vaati's face. It quickly turned into a grimace, however. "He could be hiding," he said, lifting a hand to his chin in thought. "Lurking. Preparing. A disgrace such as that _pig_ knows not when to accept defeat."

Flow was silent a moment. The crowd had hushed. Ruuya resisted cringing at Vaati's title. Finally, the old sorceress spoke, "If he is, then we will be ready. We can prepare. I am much stronger than I was when we first met. Together, we can cast him down should he dare show his face!"

The crowd burst into cheers. At that moment, Ruuya wished she could slink away. Perhaps this was how her sisters would react if the Great Ganondorf came back and reclaimed his title. Like these villagers, they would harp his name without considering the consequences of their blind devotion.

"So, you're him," said a voice from the back of the crowd. The others stepped aside, letting the speaker through as they fell silent. Vaati looked back, his face growing pale at the sight of the tall newcomer. It was Alysse, dressed in a flowing dress of white trimmed with gold at the neckline, hem, and cuffs. Even leaning slightly on a wooden cane, she made an imposing figure, a ray of light among the shadows. "From all the stories I have heard, I thought you would be more impressive."

"How dare you," he said, raising his staff, flashes of red light sputtering from the amethyst on top. "I am, Vaati, the King of Winds, the most powerful sorcerer to ever grace these godsforsaken lands!"

Ruuya snorted, covering her mouth a moment later. For a few tense moments, the owl-woman did not reply. When she did, her stance was unyielding. "These people _love_ you, they looked forward to your return," she stated, her eyes locked onto his. "Don't trade that for fear by destroying one of their own."

He glared back, but lowered his staff. The red lights receded. "I am not without mercy." That, Ruuya was sure, was untrue, but Alysse had given him an easy out, even if she had not realized it. "But if you stand against me again…"

"You would do nothing."

" _What_?"

She smiled, though as she wore the form of an owl, it only touched her eyes. Perhaps she had realized the truth… Or she was just as brave and foolhardy as her daughter had been. As brave as Nan was...

"A wise, gracious leader _listens_ , does he not?" she asked. "You will listen now, Lord Vaati. These are _my_ people. They are under _my_ protection. Do not butcher their faith in you."

Lightning flashed above the tower, thunder echoing in its wake. Vaati studied her in the still that followed, meeting her hardened gaze with his own. At last, an unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them.

"A fool would sooner poison his own well," he replied, "and I _am_ no fool. I have always listened to sound advice."

Flow nodded.

"I'm sure," said Alysse.

"But," he said, turning once more to the crowd, "today is a day of celebration, for the Great Vaati has returned and _deserves_ praise -"

Ruuya rolled her eyes. _Tooting your own horn a bit too much there, old man._

As Vaati continued his speech, Alysse slid up besides Ruuya, a sigh escaping her beak. The strong woman from before had gone, and in her place stood one who appeared tired, exhausted, barely able stand. She leaned on her cane, a white wisp in the rain. Moved by pity, Ruuya offered her support, throwing Alysse's arm around her shoulder as they wordlessly listened to Vaati finish his speech in weariness and foreboding apprehension.

"- for on _that_ day, I shall make them tremble at the sound of my name and storm justice on those whom have wronged us!" he declared. "You, my followers, will bring Hyrule this new age, and marvel in a new era of greatness with me, Vaati, as king!"

Cheers and applause rained from the crowd, but Ruuya heard something else below the storm: a faint discordance of tears.

Beside her, Alysse was bent, weeping.

"Alysse?" Ruuya asked.

"What have I done?" she asked, her voice haunted, barely a frayed whisper. She did not so much as glance at Ruuya as she spoke. "I've doomed these people…haven't I?"

 _Yes,_ Ruuya thought, _you did_. They watched as the crowd erupted in euphoria. Nan cheered loudest of all, whooping and bouncing in jubilee. Alysse bowed her head in shame.

 _What have I done?_ Alysse's words echoed in her own mind, a sharp chord of regret against the cheerful rain.

"And it all begins with this!" Vaati dug inside of his tunic, pulled out a roll of paper, and unfurled it. An odd series of symbols was drawn on it, each made of thick black lines, except the last few which looked dark red. As though they had been written in blood. For the life of her, Ruuya couldn't figure out what they meant. "This is the key to our freedom!" he announced, turning the parchment around so that the entire crowd could see the design. "All it needs is a little...assistance." He strode forward to Flow, and held it out to her. Reverently, she took it.

"Oh this. This spellwork..." Lightning sparked inside of Flow, rumbling happily. Both Nan and Ruuya took a step back. "Oh it is gorgeous, Lord Vaati! This has to be your best work."

A few cheerful bits of hail clinked against the cobblestone path leading up to the tower. Nan glanced at Ruuya, then whispered, "Maa always said she was scariest at her happiest."

Ruuya couldn't have agreed more.

"Quiet," Alysse said sharply, hushing her granddaughter. Nan blinked and opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. It seemed _something_ in the universe could tame the girl's unending chatter.

"Yes," said Vaati. "It is."

"Now," he said, addressing the crowd, "I and my most loyal servant, Flow, must depart. By tomorrow morn, I promise you, we will open a new portal to the World of Light and retake what once was ours!"

Once more the villagers erupted in elation. Some threw hats in the air, others hooted and hollered. Ruuya covered her ears, feeling overwhelmed by the noise. Vaati and Flow stepped into the garden, quickly disappearing into the tower itself, leaving the chaos of the celebration behind them. She wished she could shrink away, too...but a hand gripped Ruuya's wrist, and she was pulled into the den of laughter and merriment. Nan grinned up at her.

"Come on, Ruu! I'll take your bag back to the house. Have fun!" she said. And faster than Ruuya could process, the weight of her knapsack was gone. She was left to the masses, for Alysse had retreated as well.

Great. She had to face this insanity alone. She hoped Vaati was a fan of cool dishes, because she was serving revenge later.

"What was it like in the palace?" asked one. It was Mr. Friend, she thought, from the insistent bouncing.

"How did you find him?" asked another.

"How...how many monsters were there?"

Quickly, she was bombarded with questions, hugs, even congratulations. It was all overwhelming. Ruuya wished to flee but she couldn't escape.

/-/

As the door closed behind him, Vaati felt his shoulders sag as he leaned against its hard wooden surface in relief. He had finally escaped the crowds. A part of Vaati had always hated giving speeches. He would much rather read, do magic, or slay a few kings...

"Ah, Master Vaati," said Flow, eyes practically glued to the paper, "I thought I had seen your best. Clearly I was mistaken."

Vaati chuckled. "Underestimating me is dangerous, indeed," he said, then sighed, gripping his staff tightly with both hands as another wave of exhaustion overcame him. It had been centuries since he had traveled so much, and worse, being trapped inside a crystal had only served to weaken his constitution. Flow, however, was too engrossed by the spellwork to notice the embarrassing onslaught of fragility. Nonetheless, she pulled out a cushioned chair as soon as they reached her cluttered kitchen, which he all but fell into, grateful that he was finally off his feet. "You at least show proper respect, unlike that meddlesome owl."

She nodded her head, clearing off the table with a gust of wind and gingerly placing the scroll on the hardwood surface. She produced two metal cubes from the ether, using these as a pair of paperweights so that the scroll would not curl in on itself. "Oh, young Alysse has always been the headstrong sort," she said distractedly. Then she fetched a bottle of wine and two glass cups with nearly invisible ribbons of wind. "She'll come around eventually, I'm sure. That family has always been foolishly stubborn."

He nodded, anxious to move on from this line of conversation. He was certain that whoever this Alysse was, she had guessed that he could not access his magic. It wouldn't do if rumors about the truth came out. The last thing he needed was dissent among his new followers.

For now, until he discovered how to unlock his powers or he found a way to obtain recognition in the World of Light and gain political sway, he would have to tread carefully. He could not take a risk and antagonize someone who his followers apparently respected greatly, no matter how much he wanted to smite that smug bird.

 _There's just one problem with all these plans,_ he thought, frowning to himself as Flow handed him his glass, _They all_ _require I get back._

It seemed he had to, at last, admit his problem. The wind witch, he hoped, wouldn't betray him once she heard his plight.

"It seems I have an unfortunate predicament," he said, staring at the bright red liquid as he spoke. "My magic is blocked."

"Blocked?" asked Flow, placing a plate of cookies on the table. "I...do not understand, Lord Vaati."

Carefully, he folded his hands before him, resting his head on top as he studied the cookies. How to put this? How could he, the Great Vaati, admit to such weakness? It was embarrassing. Shameful. He _hated_ it, almost as much as he hated the one who had doubtlessly done this to him.

"I believe that Ganon did not only imprison me within that crystal," he said, "he also drained me of power, using me as some kind of power source to charge his magic."

"Oh, you poor thing," she said, throwing a blanket over his shoulders. She patted him between the shoulders like some ancient grandmother.

He glared at the cookies, then sighed. No, he needed to be nice, angering someone so loyal to him was a mistake he could not afford to make. So, he let the woman pity and nearly _mother_ him, despite that both kinds of actions disgusted him. "Yes, Flow, I can't power my own spell," he explained in disdain, pointing to the scroll. "Nor do I have a replacement for the mirror that keaton broke."

Flow nodded, handing him the plate of cookies. Unconsciously, he took a few, biting into the heavenly double chocolate chip shortbread. "Hmmm," she said once he had devoured at least half a dozen. "May I ask one thing, great lord?"

"If you must," he said, definitely not talking with his mouth full.

"Ganon failed to take over Hyrule," she began, her eyes downcast. "He didn't resurrect correctly, and only his malice fully arose in the Light World… I would think that once he was gone, the spell would be undone…"

He grimaced, pained by her words. "Yes," he agreed, shaking his head. "But it isn't. It is why I need your help."

"Yes!" she said, clapping her hands in excitement, a jubilant rumble of thunder followed a moment later. Vaati felt a wave of relief, glad she was no longer poking around at such discomforting issues. "I think that it might be best to use a _different_ hand-mirror, of course. It was carved into the inside of the original one, correct?"

"Indeed," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "Wait. How did you know that?"

She giggled, airy and light. "Where else would you put the spell, silly?" the flustered cloud said then covered her mouth, a faint violet blush coloring her cheeks. "Don't worry, I have one! Let me go and grab it!"

She disappeared in a cloud of...cloud. He snorted, then shook his head. Denizens of the Dark World could certainly be particular. Try as he might, Vaati could not recall who this Flow had been to him or what role she had played in his forces. Indeed, she might just be some fan who had heard of him and was simply delighted to finally meet him, or his student from long ago.

He just didn't know, could not recall. That disturbed him greatly. The Great Vaati should _not_ have been so forgetful, like some...some…

Some disgusting old man with only half a brain.

"I'm back!" she cheered, rescuing him from those disturbing thoughts. A moment later, mist puffed into existence, and the cloud-woman reformed. "This mirror is a little larger than the last, but I think it will work much better. We can increase the size of the portal with it and make it all the more spectacular."

"Did you bring a knife?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I forgot."

Again, she disappeared. Instead of allowing his brain to wander down the same miserable trails, he took the opportunity to finish off the rest of the cookies.

 _It is true_ , he thought, savoring the taste, _the Forces of Evil always have the best snacks._

"Here," she said, coalescing once more from drizzle and cloud. Flow handed him a knife, and gently set to work loosening the oversized looking glass. "It is an amazing privilege, Lord Vaati, to once more work on this with you."

Vaati nodded, barely paying her any mind as he carefully etched each letter into the inside of the mirror. Instead of blue wood, this was a rich redwood trimmed with gold. High quality, like a gift one might give to one's favored protege. It was the perfect choice for a difficult spell like this one, for that which people valued most would hold the magic best, stabilizing the spell and making it more powerful. That was especially true if it was a personal keepsake that others might also want if you chose to sell.

His hand paused. He looked up at Flow. She was still blabbing. "A great honor, truly, to sacrifice myself to power it."

"Flow," he began, raising his free hand. "Who gave this to you?"

"Oh," she paled, her cheeks coloring again. "No one as great or as handsome of you, certainly. He...he's just a friend. Do not worry."

"Not I?" He felt a jolt of shock, but also relief at this news. If she had been more to him...he might have felt a smidgen of guilt. And guilt was unbecoming.

"You weren't one to hand out gifts, even to your most loyal pupil," she said, sounding slightly disappointed by this. "But that matters not now. Let me make more cookies. It's not good to do such hard work on an empty stomach."

He grunted. His stomach was anything but empty, but at least she would be less distracting to work with if she herself was distracted. As the night wore on, the woman's voice became little more than background noise as he carved his spell. Details were carefully scratched into the wood, and blood was drawn.

This time, Vaati promised himself, Hyrule would remember him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy-kandra: *hums the doom song obnoxiously at Alysse*
> 
> SmashQ: It’s raining doom! Shout out to fleets whose works inspired Vaati’s current magic problem.


	8. The Fickle Light

After the day’s celebrations, Ruuya just wanted to head to her mat inside her tent, roll up and fall asleep beside Veil. Unfortunately, all three were still under the bright desert sun, far away from this world of darkness and beasts.

Now, the Village of Outcasts was covered by a thick morning fog, casting it in an eerie green glow. Ethereal fae lights floated and flittered in the mist, aimless, wispy, carefree. Her people often said these were the eyes of souls long departed, still watching the world from the realms beyond. She felt a chill, but decided to ignore those superstitions as her exhaustion nibbled at her feet, and her eyelids grew heavy, as though she had tied stones to her lashes.

 _Damn_ , she thought, biting back a yawn. _The inhabitants of the Dark World certainly know how to throw a party._

Once the night had stretched into the early hours of the next morrow, she had finally been able to escape, ducking out of the party after she claimed she wasn’t feeling well and had – rather conveniently – started her cycle. Cresting the low hill at the center of town, she spotted the roof of Alysse’s manor house in the distance. Unfortunately for her sore feet, it was still some ways away. She sighed, but continued on, reaching the house at long last. In the green fog, it appeared like a dark monolith in the night, a story higher than most of the other shadowy buildings in the village. Standing there behind the gate to the front yard, the cold damp air seemed to grow more frigid. The night more dark and bitter.

 _I can’t go back_ , she thought. It didn’t matter that Alysse had sought her out during the party. The woman had initially disappeared as soon as Vaati had finished his speech. They hadn’t truly spoken then, and Ruuya dreaded what Alysse might say. She had not only stolen that book, she had brought back a demon as well, even if he might be the very key they needed to open a link between worlds.

Some things simply could not be forgiven.

Ruuya nearly turned to go, but something caught her eye. A figure stood on the porch despite the hour, a lantern in hand. She edged forward, curious. It was not the wispy owl, nor the short yet stout young goat, but was taller and broader than both. Solid, like a mountain, with that same noble bearing as the majestic snowcapped peaks of the north. She felt a jolt of shock at the sight. Why would _Joshua_ of all people wait up for her? He had barely spoken with her even when she was a guest in his house. Upon noticing her, he gave her a firm nod, beckoning her forward. There was no point in fleeing now; her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

“Alysse wanted to wait out here herself, you know,” he said. “She’s always been a stubborn one, but no one is quite as stubborn as Joshua the goat.”

Ruuya nodded, climbing the short flight of steps onto the covered wooden porch. “Is...is she still up?” she asked, glancing around with a sudden jolt of nervous energy. Skittishness. Maybe she could still flee.

“Most likely, young lady,” he answered. The goat-man smiled, then took a long drought from the steaming mug in his other hand. “I could no more convince her to get rest when she needs it than I can talk a mountain into moving. Believe me, I’ve tried it. The mountain was easier.”

“The...what?” Ruuya blinked.

“Dynamite,” he said, giving her a one armed shrug. She didn’t know what that word meant. “It took a lot of well-timed explosions and water. Lots of it. This...this… I see. I’m not explaining this well.”

That was an understatement. “Are you...some kind of builder?”

“An engineer,” he said.

Ruuya stared, bewildered. “A...a...what?”

“I suppose it is a type of builder,” he answered, releasing a hearty laugh. Great. Why, exactly, was she having this conversation? “Aye. I suppose I still am one, but most projects here...just haven’t been that much of a challenge. You might say that next to moving a mountain to create a new system of pipes and aqueducts, building a bridge across a sluggish stream or new canals to water our fields just isn’t a match.”

She nodded, hiding a yawn behind her paw. _Ruu_ , she heard Veil, whispering in the back of her head, _that’s rude, even if you hate anything that’s remotely related to math._

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Please feel free to take your leave of me, Ruuya.”

She gave him a grateful smile, moved to go inside, then looked back over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said.

He nodded. After they stepped inside, he hung the unlit lantern on a peg next to the door, then wandered over to Alysse, who sat on a plush chair in front of the fireplace. On her lap laid a quilt, and on top of that, half a knitted scarf, two knitting needles in her hands. As usual, she wore her glasses, but those had slid down her face, nearly falling off of her beak. Joshua tapped Alysse’s shoulder, but didn’t seem to catch her attention. Then he whispered into her ear. That didn’t work either.

“Alysse, dear,” he said. “She’s back.”

The woman started, then huffed, gesturing at him with one of her knitting needles. The goat-man smiled warmly, placed his large hands on hers, then spoke to his wife in a low voice, glancing back at Ruuya and sending her a nod. Alysse did likewise for a split second, then looked back at him, their quiet conversation continuing as it had before. Ruuya froze, wishing she could sink into the carpet on which she stood, or maybe become one with the stone door frame behind her. Either fate would be preferable to facing Alysse’s wrath, she decided. That piercing gaze the old owl had sent her had been unmistakable. She was displeased by Ruuya’s presence and what she had done.

She should’ve never come back, but it was too late now. A Gerudo knew better than to violate the trust of someone who had shown you hospitality without expecting something in return. One did not steal from one’s host, at least while you were still _staying_ there. Every Gerudo knew that, even those who had forsaken the Great Ganondorf and become silly merchants.

She had violated that sacred law...and then Joshua wished her a good night and went upstairs, his hoofsteps echoing in the great room below. For several moments, they were the only sounds beside the crackling fire and the soft _tap_ of needlework. Soon, the sounds up above faded, and Ruuya was left there: frozen, numb, and unable to speak.

“Ruuya,” Alysse said. At the sound of her name, Ruuya’s insides tightened. “Have you eaten?”

Where was the rage she’d seen earlier? The anger? Ruuya faltered. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

 _Have I eaten?_ Ruuya asked herself. She couldn’t actually remember. Certainly there had been food at the celebration, but as the center of attention since Vaati had gone with Flow and left her behind, she realized she hadn’t gotten even a single bite since breakfast.

Ruuya shook her head, her stomach rumbling in reply.

“There should still be shepherd’s pie in the kitchen,” said the woman. Ruuya wasn’t familiar with the dish. It wasn’t something they had out in the desert. “There may not be much left... But it’s the best I can do.”

Without a word, Ruuya headed into the kitchen, both to fetch a plate of food and to gather her thoughts. She didn’t understand why the old owl hadn’t lashed out at her, why Alysse was acting so pleasant. Perhaps the anger she had seen earlier hadn’t been related to anything she had done. _That doesn’t make sense,_ she thought. _Has_ _she not discovered that I took it?_

She didn’t know, but her stomach growled demandingly. Thus, Ruuya headed over to the kitchen table and scooped out the last of the pie onto her plate from a strange ceramic dish that had kept it surprisingly warm. Considering the swirling wind symbol on top of its lid, it was probably a gift Flow had given them.

With a deep, nervous breath, Ruuya stepped back into the great room and joined Alysse next to the fire, having decided that there was no use in running now or delaying the inevitable by eating her dinner in the kitchen. She ate quietly, devouring the pie, then leaned back against the back of the matching cushioned chair.

Even after she had finished, she still did not know what to say.

“Was it good?” asked Alysse.

She nodded.

“I’ll tell Joshua that. He’s never made it before tonight, and he always gets anxious whenever he tries a new dish,” she said, then laid her knitting needles upon her lap. The azure scarf was certainly longer than it had been before. “Ruuya. I may have known you only a few days, but I seem to recall that you’re of a more talkative disposition.”

“A talkative...what?”

“There,” said Alysse, her eyes alight with mischief. “Or temperament.”

Ruuya tilted her head. “Like...temper?”

“I suppose so, more that you are somewhat prone to chatter,” she said. “At least where books and translation are involved.”

Ruuya studied her, frightened. She felt a bit of vomit rise to the back of her throat.

“I stole it,” she admitted, unable to keep her secret in any longer. Ruuya looked down in shame. Perhaps she should give it back, but even if she wanted to, only the gods knew where Nan had put her sack.

“Yes, I know,” Alysse said. Ruuya felt a sudden chill, but then frowned. Oddly, Alysse didn’t seem that angry. “It’s good to know that someone else in this godsforsaken village gives a damn about scholarship.”

Ruuya’s thoughts sputtered to a halt, like a goron rolling into an unseen wall. “ _What?_ ”

“But,” she said, lifting a knitting needle and stabbing it in Ruuya’s direction, “ _don’t_ do it again.”

Ruuya nodded quickly, still stunned. Her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed a handful of sand.

“I will always promote any woman who has an interest in scholarship,” she said, closing her eyes. “You may keep the book, consider it a gift if you must, but…I doubt you will have much luck translating it.”

 _Wow, she’s optimistic._ She was also right, Ruuya realized. Still. She wasn’t one to just let an argument die out.

“The world is large, but all languages come from somewhere,” said Ruuya. She smiled tentatively. “I think it is possible.”

The old owl snorted. It was amazing given that all she had was a beak. “Indeed,” she agreed. “But it takes years to learn to read, write, and translate ancient languages and linguistics, even under the tutelage of a skilled scholar, and _that_ book is a challenge even for one such as I.”

Ruuya’s drummed her fingers on her knee. If only she’d known where her bag was.

“You’re offering to teach me,” she stated, grinning from ear to ear. Thoughts of Vaati and her earlier exhaustion were pushed aside. She didn’t need to know what had provoked the old owl’s anger, for now. This...this was wonderful. It was like finding someone else’s buried treasure and claiming it as your own despite knowing that it belonged to them.

“I am considering it,” said the owl. Slowly, she raised a finger. “If you promise me one thing. On the name of the Goddess of Sand.”

Ruuya swallowed. Damn. That was an oath she would not dare break. She nodded, however.

“You’ll keep Nan safe for me.”

Ruuya smiled. That was no fur off her back. She was more than glad to do so. “Of course, I swear it.”

Alysse’s eyes crinkled. “Good. Then I will teach you,” she said. “Now I -”

Alysse frowned, then glanced outside, her eyes lingering on the windows.

Ruuya tilted her head. “Alysse?”

“What is that?” Alysse asked, her eyes widening. She put both the unfinished scarf and needles on the end table between their chairs, placing her glasses there as well. Slowly, the owl-woman stood, crossing the room and looking out the darkened window. She stood there for several moments before looking back at Ruuya.

“Grab the lantern.”

Ruuya frowned. She didn’t see anything out there herself. Why was the old owl so alarmed? “What?”

“In all the time that you have been here,” said Alysse, “haven’t you noticed that the nights are never truly dark in this realm?”

Ruuya lifted a hand to her chin, considering Alysse’s words. Each night, either the moon had been full and bright red, casting an eerie glow on the earth below, or a dense fog had lit the ground, providing a dim light by which to see. Strangely, for a place called the Dark World, it was never truly without light.

Ruuya glanced outside again. She saw nothing but the deep inky blackness from before. “That…is weird.”

“Light here may be fickle, but one must have light to notice shadow. A contrast. That,” - she pointed to the darkness beyond, the night without a shimmer of light - “should not be. It is unnatural. We must investigate.”

Ruuya swallowed, backing up further into her chair. The chair legs slid across the wooden floorboards, making an unpleasant squeal. “You want to go out in _that_?” she asked, gasping slightly. “Are you insane?”

The old owl smiled at Ruuya with her eyes. “Yes,” she answered. “Quite. Considering who I confronted this afternoon, you should know that…”

“He doesn’t have magic.”

“Which means I was very lucky,” she said. “If you don’t wish to accompany me, then at least you can fetch the lantern, young lady.”

Ruuya flinched. Before, Alysse had treated her with respect, never once making her feel like her youth or lack of education made her any less of an equal in the owl-woman’s eyes. Now, though…

 _She’s manipulating you again, Ruu_ , Veil said.

She sighed, but decided to relent despite that thought. After all, she was curious, too, and if she wanted to learn from the woman, it was probably not a good idea to irk her again. Vaati _had_ said the spell would be finished by the next morn, and it was technically morning now, even though the grandfather clock only read a quarter past three.

“Fine, I’ll come,” she fetched the lantern off of its hook beside the door and handed Alysse a cloak, “but I don’t like this.”

“That is why we’re investigating.” Alysse slung the cloak around her shoulders, tying it with steady hands. From beside the fire, she took her cane. “A great scholar never runs from questions.”

Ruuya smiled. “Is that what you call brave stupidity?”

She shrugged instead of answering, stepping out into the night. Quickly, Ruuya followed, lantern in hand. The shadows barely fled from the lantern. Instead, it formed a small bubble of pale yellowish light around the pair as they traversed through unending night. Slowly, they treaded along the roads in the dark, neither star, moon, nor lit lanterns greeting them on their way. It seemed the perpetual shadow had eaten the light, and the World of Darkness was at last living up to its name.

“Do you hear that?” asked Alysse, breaking the silence that had befallen on their solemn trek through the abyss. “It sounds like…”

“Chanting,” Ruuya finished.

They met each other’s eyes. Somewhere in the shadows, a voice arose, an eerie melody filling the void. Words she did not know fell from the sky, but as the pair got closer, Alysse picked up the pace. Her footsteps determined. Her face stilled, her eyes enraged. At last they crested the hill at the center of the village. At the top rested a circular dias, four broken statues at its base. Upon it knelt a young woman bathed in ethereal light falling from the heavens above. Her hair fell to the earth, fanning around her minute figure; her dress of cloud and sky, her skin pale, untouched by time or age.

Alysse gasped, breaking away from Ruuya. “Flow?”

Ruuya frowned. How could _that_ be Flow? Flow was an old woman, not this, this...child. Then she noticed it, a small hand mirror trimmed with gold sat on Flow’s lap, sparkling in the dim light.

They had fixed it, Ruuya realized with a start. _Oh no, dear gods._

The woman tilted her head back, her eyes transfixed on the sky. She lifted the mirror above her head, and these words rang from her lips:

“Gatekeepers, I command thee thus, open the way to the Realm of Light!”

Four brilliant beams of violet light shot forth from the statues, slamming into the mirror Flow held above her head. White light blossomed from the mirror, pulsating steadily, and rippling out in waves around her.

“No…” Alysse said, her voice nearly lost beneath the tide of thunderous magic. However, she stepped forward, covering her head with her arms and pushing through the waves of wind and light. “Flow! Stop this!”

“Alysse!” Ruuya yelled. “You can’t stop her…!”

Her voice, however, had been lost beneath the cacophony arising from the ancient sorceress. Alysse marched on despite Ruuya’s words, then as the light came down in another great blast, Ruuya ran forward, tears spilling from her eyes.

She could not let Alysse touch Flow, not for those women’s friendship nor for Alysse’s sense of duty. _That spell will consume them both!_

“No!” Ruuya cried. Alysse reached out to grab Flow’s shoulders and pull her back, but Ruuya tackled her just as the tips of her feathers were blackened by magic. They tumbled into a heap of yellow fur and white feathers, then were hit by a powerful wave of energy, slamming against one of the four statues that surrounded the small dais upon which the sorceress knelt.

Finally, the young woman looked upon them, smiled, and said, “Thank you.”

And then was consumed by light.

The world dissipated around them, turning bright. A tingling sensation spread from her toes to her head, wrapping around her like a blanket. Slowly it intensified, until the white light faded.

Laying on a soft bed of grass, Ruuya opened her eyes. The world around her was blue and green. Grass and wildflowers sprouted from the ground, and a thin canopy of tree branches spread out overhead, dimpled sunlight falling through their leaves. The air was fresh. The wind was gentle. It brushed her skin with a cool breeze. Instead of fur and claws, she wore sturdy trousers, a simple blouse, and her new boots. At her hips, her scimitars rested in their sheaths, two reassuring weights at her side. She was Gerudo again.

She sighed in relief. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. It was perfect.

It didn’t matter.

Before her, a young woman still knelt, her head raised to the heavens, a sparkling mirror in her hands and a serene smile on her face. Ruuya reached out and touched her.

Flow’s flesh had become stone, her dress crystal, and at her feet, blood covered the grass. When Ruuya’s fingers brushed her arm, the statue crumbled to dust. Ruuya fell to her knees, splattering blood as she did so, and covered her eyes, sobbing. Time passed, voices rung in the distance, but Ruuya wept, too overwhelmed to care. At last, a willowy hand landed on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. Ruuya looked up through tear-blurred eyes. The hand belonged to a woman with hair like flame and startling blue eyes, filled with knowledge and wisdom.

Alysse. The woman – her friend – gave her a watery smile. “She left us a note.” She held up a white envelope. It had been stamped shut with a strange symbol, like winds and wings, but the seal was broken.

Throat thick, Ruuya managed to croak, “What did it say?”

“She called me brave and said: ‘you must keep your promise and protect them’,” Alysse said, gaze locked onto Flow’s remains. “But by the gods, Ruuya, I don’t know how.”

End of Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy-kandra: Interludes are coming sometime soon. Don’t worry, she’ll get Jamila back.
> 
> SmashQ: I’m just going to go scream into oblivion now. So long, Flow. And thanks for all the cookies.


	9. Interlude: Wind's Breath

Ruuya stared down at the ring Flow had left her. What must have at one time been a brilliant silver was now tarnished by age. It thickened on one side where a design of winds and wings had been carefully etched. She was certain that a preservation spell had been used on it, though for how long it had lasted, none could say. There was not even a faint trace of it left, now.

Leaning back against a tree trunk, Ruuya sighed. It had been three days and she still didn’t know how to feel. To being under a yellow sun. To being human once more. To being unable to find Jamila. To losing the odd sorceress.

An odd sorceress who had bequeathed unto her a plain old ring that had definitely meant something to the deceased. There had been a simple note with it. ‘To the one who brought us back hope.’ And no more. Ruuya’s gut twisted, not for the first time, knowing what Flow had meant. However, she refused to acknowledge the silver-tongued mage as anything close to a savior or hero.

Even now she could hear him striking up a conversation some ways a way, his voice strong and confident. Likely, he was reiterating his plans to meet with the King of Hyrule once the village had been established in the Land of Light.

Ruuya shuddered. The king of the Hylians. What sort of man was he like, she wondered, to be the ruler of so many dangerous people? That was, if they really were as dangerous as she had been taught at all.

A low rumbling sound interrupted her thoughts. Ruuya jerked her head up, staring as the air in the village center began to ripple and churn. The re-newed Magic Mirror, sitting on a makeshift table made of ancient bricks and old wormwood, shined brightly for several seconds. Alysse stood beside it, her back half-turned to Ruuya, her eyes focused on the thickening air. She looked worn and tired, but stood with that same resilience that caused Ruuya to look up to the older woman.

Suddenly, a slender line of light cut through the air, then spun, forming a circle of light in the air. When the light faded away, a group of men and women stood where there had once been nothing just moments before. In their arms were bulging sacks and blankets and chairs and numerous other supplies. Whatever could be carried was slowly being transferred from their old home in the Dark World to this one.

Other villagers came to help them move some of the heavier things they had brought from the Dark World. Ruuya spotted a table, two large tents with their corresponding pegs and poles, and several barrows and boxes filled with food and drink. Gesturing, Joshua took the reins, separating them all into teams and sending them off to wherever the supplies needed to go. Another team approached the mirror. Alysse smiled, giving them a nod, and then placed a thin hand on the mirror. It sparkled, and in another rumble and flash, they were gone, disappearing into a portal of light. A part of Ruuya still found it amazing that they were so willing to go back there. So brave, really. The very thought of going back herself made her stomach tightened in fear.

It was an amazingly efficient system for something created within only a couple hours. The supply runners had been at it almost nonstop except to sleep, thus almost everyone had a tent or something similar setup within the Light World ruins of some old forgotten hamlet. Unlike the old mirror, the new one could create portals large enough for a whole group, as long as it had someone on this side fueling the spell. Various people had taken turns, including Ruuya herself, but it was Alysse who was most often doing so. The process, Ruuya had found, was surprisingly tiring. She didn’t know where the old ow – woman found the strength. Perhaps she fueled it through stubbornness alone. It wouldn’t be too long before the new village, or town she supposed, was reconstructed.

A whole town built within a year, perhaps six months, just as Joshua and Alysse had wanted. When they first said that was their goal, she couldn’t believe it was possible, and yet, looking at the skeletal outlines of homes and pathways, it seemed that the former Dark Worlders would succeed. They were strong people, hardened by their harsh mother – the Dark World – forged in her shadows like a hard plate of steel.

Ruuya idly rubbed the ring. The tradeoff hardly seemed fair.

Maybe one day it would be. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

Restless, Ruuya pushed herself to her feet. She grabbed the bag she had acquired in the other world and set off through the through the future site of Windfall Village. She had to admit, the name had a certain ring to it. A few were already calling Joshua “mayor” – whatever that was – due to his quick thinking to rally everyone rather than allow panic to set in. They still grieved, but they all had a goal to work towards.

As did she.

She passed makeshift signs and markers, denoting path names and future areas of interest. Wood planks and stones were gathered in stacks and piles. People hauled them in from the forest and outlying areas if not from the Village of Outcasts itself, preparing for when they could start rebuilding in earnest. Some had been gathered from the ruins they had found on this side of the mirror, a reflection, no doubt, of the place the villagers had once called home. She nodded at the people she passed by, absently noting how...human they looked. Even now, it was strange to see so many individual faces, Hylian and Calatian both. Once monstrous, they now sported round or pointed ears, a variety of skin tones ranging from nearly white to dark dusky brown, and short statures, at least compared to herself.

Most surprising of all, however, they meant her no harm. That, perhaps more than anything, was the strangest revelation of all. Every one of Rhiun’s and Minia’s rantings about insidious and treacherous outsiders were so far holding up as well as a handful of sand in a sieve. These people had been welcoming and open, and towards a complete stranger no less. And now that everyone had returned to their original forms, nothing had changed. She had expected maybe a few glares or thefts or so-called accidents or something. Anything to justify the chills running up her spine, or the tensing of her muscles whenever one of them shot a smile her way.

Despite her ingrained fears, she made herself nod back in kind, shoving her gnawing fears into the back of her mind. There were more important things to do than idle on thoughts of “what if”.

Ruuya strolled along the less used roads. The signs and outlines for homes eventually petered out, giving way to a vast field of green. Patches of bright colors sprung up everywhere and apples trees loomed just as orderly. Absolutely none of them had eyes or wanted to spit bombs at her. Ruuya snorted at that. To think that such a thing had once been a problem.

Somewhere in the distance, past the crumbling structures of old buildings, two members of the town watch sat on rocky outcrops overlooking where the field gently rolled down. It was a quiet and lonely job, but a necessary one. The land was now unfamiliar after so much time away, and some, she knew, had been there far longer than Alysse and her family. That was if they had even fallen into the other realm around the village in the first place.

A small figure clad in blue ran across the field from the outcrops. Ruuya smiled and ambled out to meet them.

“Ruu-ya!” The call was faint, almost stolen by the wind. The figure waved an arm in the air frantically. Ruuya calmly did the same. “Ruu-ya!” they shouted again, louder this time. Moments ticked by and an early teenaged girl with curly brown hair jogged up to her. Nan was excitable as always. “Ruu, hey, Ruu!” she said, breathlessly.

“Hey, Nan,” the woman said, smiling slightly at her young friend. Nan leaned over, hands on her knees, catching her breath. “What did you see today?”

The girl gulped down air as much as she did sweets. When she had enough, the floodgates opened. “All sorts of stuff! There were tiny birds everywhere and they were brown and blue and yellow, and there was a little brown thing Totsuna called a squirrel climbing up a tree, and – oh! There was this deer bouncing around but it didn’t stay for long. Everything’s so green and bright and the air tastes weird, but it’s not bad weird so it’s okay. Hey Ruu? Does your horse have big ol’ white spots on its bum?”

“Uh, I… Yes...?” she replied. Then she paused, feeling her heart beat faster. “Wait, how do you even know what a horse _looks_ like? Did Totsuna tell you?”

“Naah.” Ruuya couldn’t decide if the bleating was intentional or a side effect. She was beginning to think it was the former, considering who Nan’s grandmother was. “Maa has illustrated books of animals she got from a friend. They were a natural historian or something like that.”

“A what?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Doesn’t matter. C’mon!” Nan grabbed Ruuya’s hand and led her across the grassy field to the outcrops. “It came by this morning and was eating some wildflowers growing on a bush, but I told her not to ‘cause I don’t think roses taste very good. They kind of taste like bleck if you ask me.”

Ruuya raised her eyebrows at that. Why was Nan eating _flowers_ of all things? Those weren’t fit for human consumption!

“Anywho, she ignored me and kept eatin’ so I got some wheat and brought her over to the ruins ‘cause then Chabi, Totsuna, and me could keep an eye on her.”

“What color was it?” Ruuya asked in the brief lull it took for Nan to take a breath.

“Brown,” the girl answered. “It’s awfully pretty-”

Ruuya ran forward, outpacing her. “Let me guess, she wouldn’t let you near her?” Ruuya asked.

Nan smiled. “Yup! She’s an ornery one.”

Quite suddenly, Ruuya’s throat tightened and tears pricked at her eyes. “That’s Jamila,” she said. “Jamila!”

Ruuya started sprinting and Nan chased after, joyful laughter trailing in Ruuya’s wake.

Of course Jamila would stay close to where they last saw each other. Of _course_ Jamila would still be here even over a month later. There was food, shelter, and there hadn’t been any aggressive animals seen in days.

“Jamila!” she called again, the urge to do again and again going uninhibited. She couldn’t help it. And she didn’t want to.

She was soon upon the worn and weathered structures. One was circular and tall and the other was short and squat, like some sort of temporary lodging or storage shed.

“Jamila!” She wasn’t in the smaller one.

Whinnying echoed off the walls of the decrepit tower.

A grin split Ruuya’s face. “Jamila!” She ran into the crumbling building. Brown and white, and built as solid as any desert dweller. Ruuya rushed to her friend, throwing her arms around the horse’s thick neck and crying her name, apologizing up, down, and sideways for her disappearance. Jamila raised her head, lifting Ruuya’s feet slightly off the ground.

“Oh, I missed you, I missed you...” Ruuya sobbed into Jamila’s neck. She didn’t flinch when the mare nipped at her, as if to say ‘How dare you worry me!’ Ruuya chuckled ruefully. She deserved it.

The horse nuzzled her back, sneezing, and spraying snot all over her.

Ruuya shuddered, then burst out laughing.

She was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy: I think Ruuya might be missing something…
> 
> Smashy: And it ain’t the spear she left the wastelands with.


	10. Of Mystery and Magic

Mama’s Cafe was as lively as ever that evening. Jaunty piano tunes drifted through the room, and occasionally out the door when it swung open. Men and women chatted and laughed after a long day of work. The warmth of the fireplace and scattered lanterns brought comfort from the chill outside, and encouraged people to part with their rupees.

Impa - spy, guardian, and worn-out nanny - breathed in the sweet aromas of her coffee: nutty, chocolate, with a dash of vanilla bean. One half-cube of sugar, one spoonful of milk. Just enough of both to take a nip out of the bitter flavor, but not enough to overwhelm it. It was a much needed pick-me-up in the midst of her hectic day. Wailing, playing, a three-year-old who often cried for a mother who was no more...

Impa had the patience to deal with said child, but not quite the energy to keep up with her charge. Together with the nobles, court drama, and the intricacies of palace politics, she was feeling worn thin. An hour or two in town would clear her mind, and give her time to think.

In her three decades of serving the Royal Family, she had seen and heard all manner of things. Break-ins and burglaries, runaway pets and missing persons, monster attacks and attempted assassinations. Poes popping up to haunt the Royal Family, wizzrobes spooking the horses, mirrors that reflected dark silhouettes with red eyes, not light. There had been many such strange and magical instances in the last thirty years, but the latest string of reports had been the strangest she had ever heard.

A small city – of all things – had popped out of nowhere.

More or less. Certainly, it had popped up in the last six months, but that was basically the same thing. Rumors abounded of this mystifying new establishment. Its people spoke an odd dialect of Hylian that was a mix of older and modern linguistics. Visitors described its people as clever and resourceful, able to set up a small city of shacks and log houses in six months, and to supply themselves with food for the coming winter, despite having no visible fields of grain. And strangest of all, she’d heard tales of a brilliant potions maker, a master of the craft who could give sight to the blind, heal broken bones with a wave of the hand, and cure any sickness known to man.

Impa doubted that last tidbit, but it had piqued her interest and her worry nonetheless.

A table further along the wall burst out into riotous laughter, briefly drowning out all else.

“He had to scrape the sauce off the walls!” hollered one of the men, waving an arm. “It took two days!” That caused the table and the one nearby to erupt again. Impa snorted. The jovial atmosphere was refreshing. There was no posturing here, no double talk, no trade disputes. Just honest men and women sharing stories and laughter over good food and warm drink. 

Best of all, there was no pompous duke in crimson to ruin the mood.

“Merle,” said a heavyset man the next table over, “so, I’m taking a shipment to that new town down south this next spring.”

“Windfall?” asked the woman, taking a sip from her mug. “You believe those rumors?”

Impa glanced over, frowning slightly at this. The heavyset merchant rolled his eyes. “Rumors? _Rumors_? Rumors are things that hold no weight for a man like me,” he said. “They got a good harvest of wheat, despite that people say they popped out of nowhere one day and basically built a damned city overnight.”

“Ha!” Merle crossed her arms on top of the table, leaning forward. “See, Baza. That’s plain hearsay. Places don’t just pop outta nowhere.”

“Orwen went down there and bought the biggest, brightest apples you’ve ever seen. And cider. And--”

“Sure. Sure.” She waved a dismissive hand in front of his bulbous nose. “You’re just trying to get me to go with you!”

He shook his head, seeming amused. “Nah,” he said, “I expect ya to be an idiot and just stay here. You’re never willing to take a risk, and it’s why I’m far more successful than ya.”

Merle scowled at that.

“It’s not everyday,” Impa found herself saying. They both turned their heads, looking over at her as she took a sip of coffee. “That a city appears out of nowhere without explanation, Master Baza. You can’t blame your friend for being afraid.”

Merle gasped. “I’m...I’m not...I’m not afraid...”

“Yeah you are,” said Baza with a wink.

“I find it quite the odd tale myself,” Impa said, reaching into her pocket and taking out a few red rupees. She placed five on the table. They both looked up, astonished. “When you go, the crown is interested in this new city. We would like to hear news of it, a short report if you would.”

“The...the...crown?” the man said, looking up at her, then down at the rupees, then back up at her again. “Of course, of course, I’m a kingsman! Yes, don’t worry I...I...”

Impa smiled. “I’m sure. News, good merchant. That’s all we want from you. Thank you.”

After promising another ten reds once the merchant returned with his tale, Impa left the cafe, her mission complete. In days long past, she would’ve gone herself, but for now, her charge would soon awaken and need yet another new...binky. With a sigh, she went to buy the third bright pink blanket she had bought that week. How in Hell the Princess kept finding new places to lose them, Impa just didn’t know.

/-/

Lord Vaati, Savior of Windfall, King of Winds, the Immortal Demon, awoke at mid-day and immediately took stock of his room. The window was closed and latched, curtains closed, blocking out the pale grey light of winter. Through the ambient light streaming in, he could see that the small pot by the door hadn’t been disturbed. All of his papers, scrolls, and tomes were exactly where he had placed them the night before, even the book cracked open on his bedside table laid untouched.

He felt underneath his pillow, and sighed upon feeling the sheathed dagger there. Safe. He had no reason to worry. No one would come for him here.

Another night of luxurious peace. Six months after leaving the Dark World, and he still wasn’t used to it. It was as strange as the lack of weight against his chest, granting him the freedom to walk as a demon. The Moon Pearl. He hadn’t needed it since the night he had given it to Flow, and he wouldn’t ever have need of it again. He had finally escaped that wretched realm, and there wasn’t a soul alive who could force him back there.

Vaati rose from his bed, and slipped his feet into his sandals, resolutely ignoring the chill that immediately clung to him. He quickly dressed in his purple tunic and matching cape, grabbing the staff he had leaned against his nightstand. Slowly, as the last remnants of sleep and dreams fled, he stood up and left, stepping out his chamber door.

Upon nearing his sitting room, Vaati sniffed the air. Smoke. Fire. Crackling. The fireplace in his sitting room had been lit. He crept back his bedroom, took the dagger from under his pillow, and came back out, staff in one hand, knife in the other. Who had dared to sneak into the Great Vaati’s home? His grip tight, he swung open the door and ran in.

Then he saw the intruder, and stopped. It was that Gerudo. Ruuya. Thank Din. It was just his damned new apprentice. He wasn’t sure if he should be _relieved_ or _fire_ her on the spot.

 _Perhaps both_ , he thought.

Vaati sputtered before finally finding his voice. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. Ruuya looked up from where she was crouched, jabbing the firewood with a poker.

“Warming up, obviously,” she answered, sitting on the cushioned bench in front of the fire, tending the flames.

“No, that’s not what I mean! What are you doing in my house?!”

Ruuya poked the wood again with her stick. “‘Come in at ten o’clock sharp,’ you said. ‘Don’t be late or I’ll turn you into a toad’.” She glanced back at the sorcerer, chin resting partially on her shoulder. “I came over, you wouldn’t answer, so I let myself in.”

She’d...she’d...pick-locked his door! This was what he got for choosing a barely reformed thief to work for him. Goddesses. He _was_ a fool.

Vaati very deliberately kept his dagger at his side. “You waste no time in grating my patience,” he said, hand tightening around the dagger’s hilt, “regardless of whether or not I allow you entrance. Perhaps there was something in the water the day I even _considered_ letting you near my tomes.”

“Sure,” she said. She wasn’t even deigning to look at him anymore. The absolute nerve! “You forget one thing.”

Vaati hummed. “And that would be?”

“You wanted me as an apprentice to keep your secret,” said Ruuya, sending a one-armed shrug in his direction. “Just consider it this way: I was being entra-per-new-el.”

Entrepreneurial? He thought she meant that, but he wasn’t sure. It also might have been intrapersonal? It was probably the former, though. Why had he decided that the Gerudo who could barely speak ten words in Hylian would be a great hire again?

“Did the old owl teach you that?” he asked.

Ruuya jabbed the wood again, and it split apart with ease. The fire bursted with crackles and light. “What?”

“That word.”

“I can _read_ , Master Vaati,” she said, turning back to the fire. He could easily imagine Ruuya rolling her eyes. “I learned it from a book.”

“It’s _entrepreneurial_ , not whatever the Hell ‘intra-per-new-riel’ is,” he said, hands on hips. She looked back and glared, but didn’t speak. All the other villagers were too nice about her bad pronunciation. He would make sure she was speaking like a proper Hylian by the time the next year came around. It wasn’t proper for the apprentice of the Great Vaati to sound like some backwater desert shepherdess. “Am I to expect this unwanted wake up call every morning?”

“I get up at five,” she said, a half-smile touching her lips. Vaati frowned. Goddesses, what an _ungodly_ hour. This Gerudo was insane. “Alysse likes to start her lessons early.”

“You’re still living with them,” he stated, disdain dripping from his voice. “You’re _my_ apprentice now, not--”

Ruuya dropped the poker, and folded her arms. “Why not?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Just think, if I’m there, you can ask me to keep an eye on her. Alysse knows your secret, Vaati. You should be grateful she hasn’t told anyone else.”

“Master Vaati,” he corrected on impulse. “Or Lord. Or King of the Winds.” To have such an impudent girl for a student. A silencing curse would have taught her respect, if not turning her straight to stone. Something to keep in mind for the future when he finally regained the abilities. She wasn’t as bad as that old owl, but she was nearly just as annoying.

Ruuya rubbed her hands together close to the fire. “That’s too much of a mouthful.”

“Bah,” he said. “Put some hot water on.”

“Already did that when I first got here.”

“Pour it?” Silently, she handed him a steaming mug from the small end table beside her chair. Huh.

He lightly sniffed it and took a sip. It was...tea. Not coffee. He took another sip, relieved. “How did you know?”

“You’re a pompous, ancient mage,” she replied, pouring herself a cup as well. Hers was coffee; he could tell by that awful reek. He would have to teach her that said nasty bean-juice was not an appropriate use for boiled water. “I brought breakfast, too.”

Vaati nodded, paying more attention to the black, bitter brew in his hands than the girl’s words.

“There are rolls in the kitchen,” Ruuya added, heading in that direction. “They’re those ones with the thing. The thing… The color thing.” She opened and closed her free hand, head tilted. “It’s...shiny?”

“Buttered jelly rolls,” Vaati provided.

“Yes! That!” she said, glancing away, embarrassed.

Vaati scoffed, resisting the urge to groan like a _certain_ child. It was hard, though. “Those things are disgusting. I have no idea how you people can stand them. Haven’t you heard of bacon? Eggs? Perhaps hash browns?”

“They’re sweet and _tangy_.” She switched languages halfway through speaking, falling into her native Gerudo. A language that she had quickly learned he understood, unfortunately.

“They get on everything.” His stomach growled in protest. No. He would not eat those things again, no matter how hungry he was.

“But your stomach disagrees.”

It would disagree with eating those pastries, too, if he let it. That would be worse. He’d already learned  that the hard way. Nothing was worth spending that much time in the lavatory, again. “I will not eat those defiled things.”

Ruuya shook her head, seeming amused. “Fine, stubborn mage,” she said. “I’ll just eat them all, and you go out into the cold to get your lunch.”

“You mean breakfast,” he corrected.

“No,” she said. “Lunch. I’ve been sitting here half an hour, waiting for you to wake up.”

He grimaced...the very thought of that... “You didn’t bother bringing anything else?”

“They’re a gift from the Mayor,” she said. “He...he might of put some chocolate filled--”

Vaati brushed past her and went into the kitchen. Those were actually half-decent, unlike the jelly crap others in this damnable town seemed to enjoy. Joshua was a smart man; he understood that Vaati didn’t care for those demonic things. Once in the kitchen, he grabbed a plate, piled a couple of chocolate filled pastries on it, and joined his apprentice at the small wooden table set in one of the corners near the stove. She had followed him in, carrying both mugs of drink, and sat down at the table, smiling like some mischievous fox.

He ignored her, devouring his pastries instead. But even as he ate, her grin seemed to grow, until finally, she let out a not-so-subtle snicker, barely covering her lips. He looked up at her and frowned, a pastry halfway to his mouth. What was so funny?

“Shouldn’t you wonder why Joshua sent you this gift?”

“I’m basically his god, girl,” he said between mouthfuls. “Offerings are typical, though it seems these people often forget it.”

She rolled her eyes. He bit into another roll. “It’s some weird Hylian tradition,” she explained. “They give small gifts when one of their own family is with child.”

“That child’s pregnant?” he asked in slight alarm. “She’s barely ten!” He took a sip of tea.

“Nan’s thirteen,” she corrected, taking one of his chocolate-filled pastries. Damned former thieves. Not only did they sneak into your house, they took your hard-earned food as well.

“Whatever.”

“No,” she said, grin so wide it almost reached her ears. “Alysse’s pregnant.”

Vaati choked on his pastry, hacking up bits of bread. Ruuya laughed devilishly, her eyes sparkling in the dimly lit kitchen.

“You’re…you must be pulling some jest,” he said, throat still sore from choking. “I thought she was merely getting fat.” Or he had hoped that was the case. If she got fat, he could mock her for it. Minute evils would always work against your enemies when you could do nothing else.

“Don’t let her hear that,” said Ruuya, waving her half-eaten pastry in the air. She took a hearty bite, gesturing wildly as she rambled on. “She’s mad enough already, not that I can blame her. She’s like fifty-six and has to go through _that_ again.”

He almost felt bad for her. Almost, but then again, Alysse had been nothing but a pain in his side since he had returned, using her knowledge as leverage over him. It served her right that she would have to suffer so. And he needn’t lift a finger or risk his reputation. Vaati smiled with glee. She wouldn’t interfere in his plans nearly as much now that she was preoccupied.

“You're doing that thing again,” said the Gerudo.

Vaati frowned. “What ‘thing’? What are you blathering about now?”

“Every time you think of something evil,” she said, spinning a loose strand of red hair around her finger as she spoke. “You get this weird, creepy smile on your face. Damn, you even have pointy fangs. Fitting, I guess, for an evil overlord.”

Vaati blinked, then shrugged, quickly landing on the perfect lie. He smiled, but made sure he did not reveal his teeth.

“Enough of this inane talk, I was merely considering what your first lesson need be. There is much for you to learn.” He rose from his seat, sweeping his cape dramatically. She rolled her eyes. “Come.”

/-/

“Making a red potion is the simplest form of crafting,” Vaati said, as they worked, pointing to bottles and jugs of various things, some much too high up on the shelves in the back of the potion shop for the short mage to reach without a ladder. Ruuya was beginning to think the real reason he had asked her to be his apprentice was not because she knew his secret, but because she was far taller than him. She could get most things down without standing on the tips of her toes. Only once did she need a stool to grab some old, dried berries from the back of the cupboards in the kitchen. She still didn’t know what _that_ was about. “Get the Hylian Shrooms.”

“Shrooms?”

“Yes,” he said, “those are the last things we should need. They’re somewhere up there.” He pointed at the top shelf. Ruuya nodded and plucked the container of red mushrooms from the first row of jars.

“I thought all crafting required bug parts,” she said offhandedly. “My mothers always used them when they made potions together.”

Back in the good days, before Ruuya had become so very interested in the world beyond her home. Before the dreams had started. When she was still yet too young to see how crazed her sisters were about Ganondorf, perhaps because they _hadn’t_ been as bad as they became later. Or so said her childhood memories.

“Mothers?” Vaati asked, heading back to the front of the cool storage room where a small,  hardwood table stood. There, she had placed all the other ingredients: fairy wings, various spices and plant parts, toad legs, and dried strawberries. Ruuya placed the jar of mushrooms in front of them.

“Of course,” she said. He motioned her to pick up the ingredients she had gathered. “Don’t know who my mother used to have a kid, but my moms raised me.”

Vaati nodded. “I suppose that makes sense... You _are_ Gerudo,” he said. Ruuya rolled her eyes. It was true that more Gerudos were lesbian or interested in both men and women, but the mage’s tone of voice… She wanted to slam a fist into his nose for that comment, but her hands were now too full of jars and bottles to do so. If she did that, she’d drop them on her feet. “Yes. Most potions require bug parts, but that is because they restore either magic or stamina.”

“Huh?”

“Indeed,” he said as they left the storage room and entered the laboratory, the place where he made potions and assembled ingredients. It wasn’t much, just a fancy stove and some strange equipment she couldn’t name. He kept a table here, though, and various bowls, pots, and utensils for making potions. “You’ll have to spend much time getting things like this through your thick skull. If you get here early like you did today -”

She rolled her eyes. He paused, lifting his eyebrows in response.

“-go back there and study.” Vaati pointed towards the storage room. “I want you to be so familiar with where things are kept and what I have that you can find them with your eyes closed.”

Ruuya thought about the herbs she had gone hunting for weeks back, and the rows upon rows of bottled and jarred things that lined the walls. She shot the mage a half-hearted glare. He must be joking. “That’s impossible,” she said.

He smiled, showing his fangs slightly. “Make it possible,” said Vaati. He chuckled, a not particularly pleasant sound. “That’s what my old master would say to me when I said such things about a task, girl. He wasn’t nice, I recall. You’re here to learn, not complain. Complainers do no work.”

He slammed his staff on the firm wooden floor. She had a feeling that last bit was something his old master had said, too. Did evil mages even have masters? Ruuya resisted the urge to cackle at the thought of Vaati being bossed around by some elderly mage in the distant past, and deposited her armful of ingredients on the cluttered table. From there, she silently followed his directions as he told her to grab two separate bowls, some wooden spoons and sharp knives, and a large pot.

“Get some water from the well out back,” he instructed. “And some wine, too, from the cellar.”

She sighed, took the bucket by the door, and headed to the well. By the time she was back from her chores, he had brought out a cushioned chair, a giant book, and a glass of wine. He had sat down, placing his pale, bare feet on the table. They stunk, she decided. Fitting for such an ancient blowhard.

Ruuya groaned, putting the bucket and cider on the table. “Put that water on the pot and boil it on the stovetop. Make sure it’s roaring before you add anything to it,” he said, turning a page in his book. “You’ll want to get to work chopping things and mixing them together.”

Ruuya glowered at the ancient mage. Was this little man being serious? “I thought you were going to help.”

He pulled out a sheet from inside his book. On it was a list and steps written in a cramped, cursive hand. “As you reminded me you could _read_ , Miss Gerudo,” he said. Ruuya snarled in reply. “I thought you could follow some simple directions.”

She grumbled a few curses under her breath, but did as he said. To her surprise, the directions were easy to follow, and soon she had two bowls of separate mixtures. Vaati sat there in silence, reading his damn book and sipping wine. Between steps, she made sure to send him dirty looks and curses, but she doubted the old mage noticed. She added both mixtures to the boiling kettle of water, grabbed the large wooden spoon off its hook on a wooden post near the stove, and returned to her list.

Ruuya frowned. It said to _ask_ Vaati what to do next. She hated everything about what the words implied: a power move; a show of dominance; putting the smart-talking student in her place. It reeked of the sort of things Rhiun and Minia would pull, setting up situations where one had to obey and show fealty. But that was then, and this was now where the stakes weren’t so high, and the only thing to lose or gain was knowledge. So she swallowed her pride, a bitter pill, and asked, “Master Vaati?” Inwardly, Ruuya clenched at those words.

“Ah, finally,” he said, his tone peevish and impatient. He set his tome aside. “Chop faster next time, I nearly got through three chapters.”

Ruuya rolled her eyes. It was becoming a habit by now, if not a reflex. Her mouth a flat line, Ruuya took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“What do I do?” she asked.

That creepy smile spread over his face again. “Stir.”

She couldn’t help it. She glared.

“It needs to be a certain shade of red, bright with just a hint of maroon,” he explained, looking over the pot. “And it must have a silky consistently. No hard bits.”

Ruuya placed a hand on her hip. “Why not make it yourself?” Honestly, it wasn’t as if he was too old to move a spoon in circles.

“Stir,” he repeated.

She sighed, but complied, stirring the mixtures together.

A minute or so later, Vaati spoke up, standing over the pot. “Because it needs two incantations,” he said. “The first commands the ingredients to heal the sick, the injured, and the wounded. The second is a small spell which will keep it for sometime, so that your buyers will pay more for the quality of your product.”

Of course, because that was so very obvious. “Preservation magic?”

“I see you know the proper term,” he said with a nod. “Good. I’m not working with a complete novice. Stop stirring so hard.”

Ruuya reined in her vigorous movements. The sharp tone Vaati had when referring to her experience was grating. “Alysse is a good teacher,” she said casually. “When she showed me the map of your palace, she explained how it worked.”

There was a brief moment of silence. The pot boiled, the fire crackled. Vaati broke it. “So, she taught you about preservation magic, I see.”

“Well,” she said, “Some. Not how to do it.”

He handed her a bottle of something. It had a greenish tone. “Open that and drink its contents, then repeat after me: “Protect against decay”.”

“What kind of spell is _that_?” she asked. “I thought spells were supposed to be more...poetic.”

Vaati snorted. “An excellent one!” he said. “It’s a simple preservation spell. Not all magic is like what Flow did to reopen the gate, girl.”

Ruuya flinched at his tone. How could he treat Flow’s memory so flippantly? “What about the other spell?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see. A spell used in crafting needs to set before you add another, lest the crafted object _forget_ the first.”

Ruuya frowned. _Objects_ forgetting? This was very strange. She felt a headache coming on. “Like...making a stew?”

“I suppose that is an ample comparison for a novice,” he said. “Now, what did I say? Speak the command. Try to envision a potion that doesn’t decay as you say it.”

She did as told, trying to form that image in her mind. She wasn’t sure what the point of _that_ was, but pictured a potion that could stay on the same shelf for years upon years, never rotting or going bad. Suddenly, Ruuya felt something...drain out of her. For a moment, she thought she saw a faint, golden stream of dust spread out from her hands and into the pot. Vaati nodded his head.

“Excellent,” he said. “Now, stir it _more_. You want to mix the magic it in. What else did she teach you?”

“About?”

“Preservation magic, fool girl,” Vaati nearly spat.

Ruuya’s hands tightened around her spoon as she stirred the potion. The urge to reach over and slap him was almost too great. She was _not_ stupid. He was just giving her too much information all at once. “She said the magic used to keep the map preserved was power. I think she could sense it.”

Vaati hummed. “Odd. She could probably learn magic if she wished.”

“Why is it odd?” Ruuya blurted out.

He shrugged, then grabbed her spoon. Ugh. Not only was he pompous, he was being purposefully vague, as though he thought being dramatic and mysterious was the perfect recipe to attract a mate. No, it was only a perfect recipe to give her a headache.

“You’ll overstir this if you stir anymore,” he said, leaning over the pot. “Let it settle for a bit, then add the dried strawberries. The magic is still active, so it should bind to them when you do.”

“Strawberries?” Ruuya sighed. Though a part of her wanted to know more about magic and its workings, asking Vaati about it was like trying to read a book written in a tongue she didn’t know. He fell silent, and refused to tell any secrets he knew about the topic. It seemed that despite her curiosity, the only person who knew anything about magic in this town refused to teach her because he thought her a foolish thief with only a smidgen of education. Unfortunately, he was also right. “If Alysse came to you and asked about spells, would you tell her things?” she asked.

He snorted and crossed his arms. “Her? She’d never do it and you know it.”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Someone who actually doesn’t hate your guts and has her smarts.”

He raised his eyebrows in thought, considering this. “If they were loyal, of course,” he replied. “Hypotheticals, however, will make no potions. Add the strawberries, it’s settled enough.”

Ruuya grumbled, but began to cut the fruit into pieces then ground them down with a stone. Each berry she smashed received a bit of anger, a dash of her frustration. “Why does this potion need strawberries anyway?” It seemed such a waste not to just eat them outright.

The mage had settled back in his cushioned chair, the book in his hands once more and his head nearly in its pages. He hadn’t heard her.

“Vaati!” she said sharply.

He tilted his head up briefly and rolled his eyes in response. Good. At the very least, this was a partnership in annoyance. For a centuries-old sorcerer, he could be damn immature sometimes.

“Strawberries?” she reiterated.

“So kids like Nan will actually take it,” Vaati obliged. “ _You_ try to get children to drink red potion without strawberries and sugar and see how well it works.” He looked up from the book, frowning. “ _Did_ you add the sugar?”

“Shit.”

Ruuya grabbed the jar of it from off the top shelf and measured it out. Two cups, just like the recipe said.

Vaati sighed, closing his tome. “People with innate magic, that is any who can learn it under the right circumstances, can see that residue. Fewer can tell the strength of a user. Most Hylians can at least sense it because they have inborn ties to Hylia, but most of their kind can only use it a little without further aid or endowment.”

“Endowment?” Ruuya asked. She felt a sudden thrill. He was actually answering questions about this topic.

“Yes. That’s the technical term,” he said. “Most people who can use magic only have access to a very small amount at first, but to use it, they must have at least a small reserve. Beyond that, they need either a god or fairy to first empower them, then a teacher to help them learn. Everyone needs that, lest they burn themselves out by overexertion.”

Ruuya felt her heart beating faster. “So. The fact that I could see residue...”

Vaati nodded. “Means under the right circumstances, you could indeed learn,” he said. Ruuya smiled, pleased. The old mge scowled in return. “Don’t let it go to your head, girl. You’re not that strong to begin with and even _endowing_ could only make you mediocre at best.”

“Compared to you,” Ruuya shot back.

Vaati snickered. “No, compared to anyone with even just a scrap of talent. You don’t have a large pool to begin with and that, child, can only be extended so far.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Vaati grunted. “I can’t stand working with a complete simpleton. It’s wholly degrading.”

Ruuya scowled. The mage only smirked, seeming to enjoy irritating her.

“If you must know,” he said, as if he wasn’t actively trying to annoy her, “to make potions you need some innate power. Not many in this village have even as much as you do. Probably because most of them are from Hyrule’s neighboring kingdoms, and the lines there were nearly depleted by the last time _I_ was in the World of Light.”

“Huh.” Ruuya thought back to the magicless life of the desert. She supposed that was why no one but the elders could do any sort of fantastic feats, and minor ones at that. The potential simply wasn’t there in most of her ex-sisters.

The laws forbade travel to Hyrule, though. So how did that explain herself?

“No more questions?” asked Vaati, ready to flip the book back open.

Ruuya pushed her wandering thoughts aside. “Just one,” she admitted.

“Well, ask. I have a book to read, girl.” Vaati rolled his wrist, gesturing for her to hurry and get on with it. What? Did he think the book would learn to walk if he didn’t get back to reading it soon?

“Alysse said she knew that whoever made that map was a powerful sorcerer,” Ruuya lied. She was actually thinking of the book in his lap, but knew it was best that he not know about it. She’d have to make sure to take a peek once he wasn’t looking. Hopefully, it wasn’t in an ancient language she hadn’t learned yet, although she was beginning to realize that she knew very little about them due to Alysse’s tutelage.

“Obviously, the magic lasted a long time,” said Vaati. “That’s not much of a question. I’ll go back to reading if you don’t mind. Pay attention to the clock, we’ll want to add the second spell...in an hour, still.”

He pointed to the small timepiece hanging next to the storage room door, then went back to reading. Ruuya rolled her eyes, strutted over to him, and placed her hand on the book, smudging it with faint traces of red strawberry paste. Vaati moved the book away from her with a grimace. Part of her screamed; the stains would be impossible to remove. She’d just soiled a perfect book! However, the rest of her was too angry to give a damn.

“She said she knew the person who made the spell wasn’t Flow,” Ruuya said. “That she could sense it, somehow, I think. I couldn’t.”

“So she is trained?” Vaati asked.

She shook her head. “She was pretty adamant that she wasn’t a sorcerer.”

“Then she’s stronger than I thought.” He shook his head, flattening his lips. “I would’ve noticed if she didn’t always _glare_ at me.”

Inwardly, Ruuya snickered. Outwardly, she managed to keep a straight face. Vaati just wasn’t used to one of his “servants” standing up to him like Alysse did.

“How much stronger?” Ruuya asked. She leaned forward a little, eager to just _know_.

Vaati waved her away. “It’s a moot point. You can have plenty of talent, but _skillfulness_ needs to be learned.”

“I’m just curious...” she muttered dejectedly.

He sighed, frustrated. “If I tell you, will you let me read in peace, girl?” She nodded. Until time was up, that was. “Compared to you, she likely has enough raw power to rival the most powerful sorcerers of this age. Except me.”

“As strong as Flow...was?” Ruuya asked carefully.

“Likely,” he agreed. “Probably stronger still. It’s almost a shame that I can’t have an apprentice as powerful as that, true...”

He went back to reading. Ruuya grumbled, and sat by the pot, waiting for an hour to pass. Unfortunately for the potion shop, Ruuya left the sugar on the table in the measuring cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy-Kandra: So, you didn’t get to see the second spell, sorry about that. It’s as simple as the first, but it’s “Heal the ill”, which rhymes, at least. There is also a preservation tune, but Vaati’s singing/humming is terrible, so he never actually learned it...
> 
> Yes. It’s the one Link hums in BotW. xD
> 
> Smashy: There’s magic in music. I suppose whistling while you work would actually be productive here.
> 
> Jazzy: Pfft.


	11. The Cold Unfathomed

Winter was, without a doubt, the absolute worst time of the year. Gone was the warmth of the sun and days spent riding around the countryside, comfortably wandering the verdant woods. The trees were barren, the color gone from their branches. White powder coated everything, almost like sand after a windstorm except it was cold, malleable, and easy to sink into.

Already, Ruuya had lost a boot almost half a dozen times from accidentally stepping out of it, and it always had to be dug up and emptied of snow. The feeling of damp leather wrapped around her foot was quickly growing from a minor nuisance to a vexing, uncomfortable reminder of the season.

It was almost enough to keep her mind off of the looming form of the infamous Hyrule Castle in the distance, dark against the grey clouds heavy with snow. The monolithic structure had been visible ever since crossing the lake, and had steadily loomed larger as the hours passed. Knowing that she was in the same country as the ruler of nightmarish and relentless soldiers had put on her edge once. In time, that anxiety had faded, at least slightly. Not knowing whether the king was a kind person or despot frustrated her.

The only things keeping her from bolting back to Windfall Village was a sense of duty and the knowledge that no one would be able to tell she was a Gerudo under all the layers of clothing. Buried beneath a thick fur coat, a warm cloak of wool, and the azure scarf Alysse had knitted and given as a gift for the Autumn Equinox, she thought she looked more like a moving mound of cloth than a person. Only her auburn eyes peeked out from underneath the bright blue scarf wrapped around her head, and that was not enough to discern her heritage.

Hopefully. But who would expect to find a Gerudo this far east in the winter anyways? Even those foolish merchants wouldn’t venture into Hyrule this time of year, right? They would be snuggled up in their little town warmed by the desert sun. Sure, it might snow at night sometimes in the Great Desert, but it was _nothing_ like this damned mess.

Ruuya halted, slamming the butt of her spear into the snow before her. Something about her trek felt off. It was quiet, perhaps a little too quiet. Where was Nan?

She whirled around then spotted her charge. Nan laid flat on the ground, staring up at the heavens. Ruuya sighed, and backtracked, watching as the girl moved her arms up and down. With every wave, the snow was nudged out of the way, leaving short arcs by her sides. Nan laughed. Ruuya stared, dumbfounded.

“I’m making a snow fairy!” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Ruuya grunted in dismay at the girl’s actions. Who in their right mind would want to lay down in snow? _It’ll get into everything, and then you’d have snow in your boots, your coat, and your gloves._ She shivered at those thoughts.

“My friend Joel showed me how! Snow’s so cool!”

 _Literally._ Ruuya huffed, her lips twitching upwards despite herself. Nan always knew how to make her smile, even if she didn’t mean to.

“Get up, Nan,” she said. “You’ll have time to play later, I promise.” The young girl groaned dramatically, all but leaping to her feet.

“Not you, too, Ruu!”

Ruuya raised her eyebrows, but then remembered the girl couldn’t see it beneath the thick scarf. “What do you mean, kid?”

“I _mean_ Lord Vaati is a sour grape.” Ruuya snickered at that. Nan grinned. “He keeps complaining about the cold and doesn’t like the other kids messing around outside his shop. My friend, Lily, tried peeking into one of his windows to see what he was up to, but he shut the curtains and slammed the shutters close.”

“Well, it is rude to spy, Nan,” Ruuya said. She resisted laughing at the irony of a former thief admonishing such a thing.

“Yeah, but, he’s weird.” She gave a Ruuya a hard look. “Guess we need to move, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, glancing up at the grey clouds overhead. They started to trudge through the snow, their path taking them uphill through the sparse woodland. “Unless you like getting stuck outside in a snowstorm.”

“Nah, not usually,” the girl replied. Nan bounced ahead of Ruuya, managing to walk backwards despite all the snow. Ruuya didn’t know how the kid could keep her balance, but Nan did so effortlessly. Naturally even. It left Ruuya bewildered. Calatians certainly were a very strange folk.

“Not usually?” she echoed.

“Well, there was this _one_ time when me, Joel, and Lily went ice chu hunting and-”

“Maybe I _don’t_ want to know,” Ruuya said, suddenly awashed with worry. Gods, this kid was going to make her hair go grey before she turned thirty. “I’ll have a stroke if I do.”

“Awww... Fine. So where we goin’, Ruu?” she asked, arms behind her head, almost humming her words. “You said you had something to do, but you never said what or even why we’re out here. It’s cold.”

 _No kidding, Miss Obvious._ She held her tongue, however, and instead said, “It’s a surprise.”

“A _sweet_ surprise?”

“Nan…” Ruuya trailed off, her tone turning stern. It seemed the girl _still_ had the nose of a goat and could sniff out sweets anywhere.

“I know you have rainy day cookies,” Nan said. “Can I have one?” She reached for Ruuya’s bag.

“No, Nan.” She pulled it out of reach, hugging it closer to her body as though she were protecting some precious treasure. Considering who was trying to steal her cookies, it might as well have been.

“Come on! Please? It’ll be our little secret.” She hopped onto a large rock and off again, sinking into the white fluff.

“No,” Ruuya said. “Alysse will know because you won’t be tired.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Please? Just one?” She puckered, donning the same look that Jamila did when she was trying to get an extra sugar cube.

Ruuya rolled her eyes at the girl's antics. They wouldn't work, even if Nan was her favorite kid in the village. “You won’t stop at just one, Nan,” she replied. “You know that.”

Nan waited a moment, then spoke again, “...One-half?”

“No. One-half becomes two one-halves, and two one-halves becomes my entire bag. Besides, these aren’t for eating.”

Nan tilted her head. “Then what are they for?”

Ruuya said nothing. She trudged carefully through the snow, and up an incline, remaining quiet. Underneath the thick layer of freshly fallen snow lay a thin layer of ice, making it somewhat slippery, but going slowly and stabbing the point of her spear into the ground before her made a difference between sliding back down the slope and making progress. It wasn't her weapon of choice, but she was grateful for having gone back to retrieve it from the meadow, eerie stone wizzrobes or no. Nan seemed to have far less problems than she did, despite that this was also the girl’s first winter. It didn’t snow in this part of the Dark World, apparently.

At the top of the hill was a short statue of stone, covered in moss and snow. Ruuya dropped her bag before it, and withdrew a couple small bags of food from the sack. Gingerly, she placed these in front of the statue.

“It’s an offering,” Ruuya admitted, feeling heat rise to her cheeks in a flush of embarrassment. “It’s tradition to give one for good weather. This isn’t the desert, but I...” She bit her lower lip, and her eyes flitted to the heavens. “I hope it’s still acceptable.”

Nan peeked over her shoulder, observing as Ruuya settled before the old statue and emptied the bags of food onto the small basin before it. Out tumbled grey cookies and apples. “An offering? Who are you gonna give it to? Maa always says that the gods are half-deaf.”

 _Or dead or nonexistent_. _Alysse said that the existence of powerful things does not necessarily make them gods or caring beings,_ Ruuya thought. _I’m not sure I can blame her, considering how her life turned out._

Nan, however, didn’t know that her grandmother believed such things. Despite the older woman’s own beliefs, though, she had encouraged Ruuya to head out and offer prayers, having noticed Ruuya’s growing anxiety about the weather. Alysse might not have believed herself, but she never faulted belief in others, even encouraging them to seek it. To Ruuya, that was perhaps one of the strangest things in these white lands, but it was a puzzle for another time.

Ruuya took a deep breath, and released it. She had thought about it hard, about the spirits and gods and which ones to call upon in this region. The past months had proven how little she actually knew about the goings on of the outside world, and no one in Windfall had the knowledge she needed. So the solution boiled down to a very simple answer.

“Din,” Ruuya said, closing her eyes in thought. “I’m giving this to Din.”

The young girl nodded, remaining silent.

Ruuya didn’t know the correct customs associated with the mossy statue, so she knelt down, closing her eyes. Nan followed suite, copying her position. When the sounds of rustling cloth had stopped, Ruuya spoke in her native language. “O Din, Goddess of Fire and cultivator of the earth, please hear my words. These past nights have brought upon us a bitter cold. Visitors to our village have become stuck, and I worry about what might happen if it is to continue…”

She opened her eyes, took out a hatchet, and struck a large stick she had picked up on the way. The dry end crackled as it was lit on fire.

“I do not know if this is normal in these lands, but I think it not. All I know is that my neighbors are running low on wood and coal. They do not yet starve, however, that may change. The fields in the other world are healthy, yet monsters have already taken from them and burned a few that are further from the old village. If those monsters grow any bolder… I don’t want to think about it. Goddess of Flame, Goddess of Power, please, protect our fields, and melt the snow. Protect Windfall from the cold. And may our future be blessed.”

Ruuya doused the offering in sacred oil, as per desert tradition. Eyes half-closed in reverence, she lit the offering on fire, watching in cold but pensive silence as it burned, turning to ash. Afterwards, she regained her feet, back aching from kneeling for so long, pant legs wet thanks to the half melted snow. Nan still knelt there prostrate. She did not rush to get up and move about as Ruuya expected. It was puzzling, and Ruuya found herself staring.

Softly, the kid cooed. Ruuya frowned, then prodded Nan’s boot with the blunt end of her spear. Nan muttered something about ten more minutes.

Ruuya rolled her eyes. “Nan!” she said sharply.

“Oh…guess it’s time to get up,” the girl mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Are we done? Did the goddess talk back?”

Ruuya blinked, then snorted. “No,” she said, putting her gloved hands on her hips. “Of course not. She’s a god, not a person.”

“So,” said Nan, standing up. A yawn escaped her lips. She didn’t even bother to hide it behind a hand or arms. Oh by the gods, this girl had no reverence for the sacred. If Din had noticed their plea, Nan’s attitude might have very well provoked the quick-tempered goddess to anger, keeping the cold here even longer because of Nan’s impiousness. Instead of receiving help, she’d withdraw, making the weather even worse because a silly girl didn’t respect the gods. The next time Ruuya did something like this, she would go alone, or take Alysse with her. This had been a bad idea. “You can’t have a conversation if only one person talks, Ruuya,” the girl said, brushing snow off of her. “Otherwise, it’s a speech.”

Ruuya grunted. She guessed Nan had a point, in a rather Nan sort of way. “What if the other person’s mute?” she asked, putting her things back into the sack.

“Gods are mute?” Nan asked back, raising her eyebrows in concern. Briefly, she looked up at the heavens, then down at the statue, then back at her. “Did someone cut out their tongue?”

“That’s not what I said!” Ruuya said, teeth chittering. Damn. Were her pant legs starting to freeze? They were starting to grow stiff.

Nan just shrugged, taking Ruuya’s pack, loosening its drawstrings, and digging through it. What, did she think she had more cookies? “Well,” Nan said, then grinned. She pulled out a bottle filled to the brim with a light orange potion and uncorked it. Ruuya blinked. She didn’t remember packing that – oh. Of course a Spicy Elixir would be in there, Nan always overpacked. “Seems she’s either mute, deaf, or something like that.”

 _Oh dear gods_ , Ruuya thought, bringing a hand to cover her face. The ground suddenly seemed a little darker. A harsh wind blew past, biting at the tips of her right ear. She tugged her headscarf down in response.

“But if them clouds are any indication,” Nan said, gesturing at the darkening heavens above them. The sun was now completely hidden behind the clouds. “We’d better be heading back.”

Nan took a drink, then tossed Ruuya the bottle. The potion inside, which was made to bite off the worst of the cold and damp, had two servings. She took hers. It would hopefully last long enough for them to get back before nightfall. It was possible as long as the weather didn’t get too bad, or they didn’t get lost on the way home.

Ruuya wanted to slap her face again. Not for the first time, she was grateful that Mount Daphnes had some semblance of landmarks leading to it. The extra supplies Nan had packed didn’t hurt to have either.

“Let’s go,” she said. They retreated from the statue, heading back towards the distant village.

/-/

Trudging through the quickly deepening snow, Ruuya squinted through the thick blanket of snowflakes as they fell from the heavens. The storm had come fast. Already their footprints from earlier were covered over with fresh white powder. With one hand holding the compass, and the other gripping her spear, she couldn’t even risk glancing at the map. Ruuya looked beside her. Nan was still there, lantern in hand. It was slower to match the child’s pace, but she couldn’t heartlessly leave the girl behind. She had made a promise, and would keep her word. Ruuya was a Gerudo, after all.

Ruuya looked back down at the compass. The red arrow was facing right-ish, and the village was off to the west. But they trailed along the beach for a while at one point, so…

They were lost. _Very_ lost. Dear gods.

“Rec-cognize anything?” she asked. Nan looked around at the trees and hilly ground.

“Nope,” Nan replied, popping the “p”. “Do you th-think Lake Hylia is nearby?”

Ruuya looked back down at the compass. No harm, she supposed. “Let’s find out-t,” she decided, and lined herself up with where the red arrow was pointing. The trees faded away, and the ground rose higher.

“There!” shouted Nan. She pointed off into the distance. “Do you see it? Lights!” Ruuya turned and squinted. After a moment she saw it: small, bright yellow lights piercing through the curtain of snow. There were five, maybe six, divided into two lines. “There it is!” Nan cheered. “We’re not that f-far off, come on, come on!” Ruuya took one look at the compass – they were northwest of the Great Bridge – and followed after Nan.

“Slow down!” she said, digging her spear into the ground to keep herself from slipping and sliding down the hill. She caught up, thankful that Nan had come to a halt. At least the girl was good at listening.

“Did you know,” Nan started, chatting as they stumbled through the snow, “that there’s supposed to be a dragon in the lake? A real live dragon! And it’s supposed to sp-spit fireballs or something at passersby, because it likes being left alone, like a cat. Why would a dragon be like a cat, Ruu? They don’t have fur, just scales! But they do have c-claws. And fangs. And-”

A screech. Not one of a ferocious animal or someone in pain, but a high-pitched sort of squeal that only one thing made. Ruuya whirled around to where the noise came from, spear ready. The keese – sparkling in a sphere of bright blue light – met its fate. Ruuya stabbed it right through the eye with her spear. With a final shriek, the keese fell and the bright blue shine faded until it was dull and dead in the snow. Ruuya sighed, then took out her hatchet and hacked off the wings, stuffing them into her bag. Vaati would probably want them for something.

More screeches sounded forth, echoing through the icy woodland. Ruuya looked back and gasped, staring at the awful sight behind her. An entire colony of ice keese flew through the trees, glittering beautifully in the night. Nan grabbed her arm, tugged, and pulled her onward, breaking the spell. Together they plodded through the thick blanket of snow, soon leaving the forest behind. That, however, only made them easier to spot. Ruuya didn’t have to look back to know that the colony was circling above them, readying to strike. She could hear them. The awful flapping of wings, the dreadful screeches. If they couldn’t run fast enough...

She felt a chill on the back of her neck. Her stupid scarf had come loose again. With a jerk, Ruuya forced Nan to dive to the ground with her, the air above their heads filling with wings and fangs shortly after. Nan and her got to their feet as the keese circled above them.

“We can’t outrun ‘em!” shouted Nan. The bats screeched, diving through mist and snow.

“Qua-- _duck_!” She reached out and grabbed the girl by the hand, leaping over a log and rolling down a steep incline. They tumbled downhill until they slammed head first into a pile of dry bones and frozen briars. They laid there for several moments, tongues still, breaths shallow. Quiet.

Quiet as the night around them.

Ruuya took a deep breath, held it, and listened. No flapping wings. No ungodly screeches. Nothing but a rabbit scurrying through the cold night somewhere in the distance. She breathed again in relief. Ruuya sent a prayer of thanks to the Goddess of Sand and scrambled to her feet, sharp thorns stabbing and scratching her skin. But thorns and scratches were far better than being turned into an ice sculpture. Vaati would be impressed she remembered that term.

“Ruuya?” Nan asked, voice unnaturally soft.

She lifted a finger to her lips. One never knew what else might lurk in the dark on a cold night like this.

“But…” Her eyes widened, slightly.

“Nan,” she whispered. “If there’s a flock of keese, they’re usually a sentry for something _worse_ …”

A shadow blocked out the wane moonlight. An eerie, high-pitched laugh cut through the air. Looking up, all Ruuya could see was a light blue robe and dreadful eyes that seemed to pierce her soul.

“Poe?” Ruuya quietly asked Nan. A second later the creature disappeared, little rings of light trailing in its wake.

“Wizzrobe,” Nan replied. Ruuya’s brain stuttered. That wasn’t what a wizzrobe acted like! That wasn’t even what wizzrobes looked like! The girl jumped to her feet, grabbed Ruuya by the arm, and ran. “ _C’mon_!”

A moment later the monster reappeared and lifted its staff to the sky, summoning chunks of ice from the heavens.

 _Dear gods, dear gods, dear gods!_ Ruuya thought, barely avoiding the spell as they fled further into the wilderness. _I hate this blasted season!_

The chunks smashed into the ground, bursting into shards and clumps. Most of the fragments missed them, but the ones that didn’t struck with the force of a hammer. The air was colder, something that shouldn’t have been possible, making breathing even harder. The chill seemed to pass through the layers of clothing like they weren’t even there, biting her skin and making her shiver.

The wizzrobe made a tinkling sound behind them.

“What do we do?” called Nan. She coughed, wheezing. Ruuya cursed in her head. They were lost, alone, without magic or weapons to take out this sort of foe. Nobody knew where they were, and the snowstorm was growing worse.

 _Dear gods_ , _we’re going to die out here, aren’t we?_ She thought, tears of fear stinging her eyes. _Veil, Alysse, I’m so, so sorry._

They continued to flee, the chill, hail, and wicked laughter chasing after them. Ruuya wasn’t sure how long they ran, but soon found she could no longer feel her toes or fingers. Before long she lost sight of Nan, though she was certain the girl had just been at her side a moment ago. Her foot glided against half-hidden stone, setting her off balance.

_Stone? That doesn’t make-_

Nan screamed, but her voice quickly faded as Ruuya fell forward into shadow. Then everything was pain and cold, too cold. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She was faintly aware of the lantern’s light fading away before she tumbled and crashed into something solid down below. It quickly gave way, and she fell further, landing on a small dais. It was surrounded by a host of unlit torches, though two spheres of eerie auburn lamps on either side of an ancient door gave light to the place.

She had fallen down a pit and landed in some ruins. Again. Ruuya rolled over on her back and let out a sigh of relief, staring up at the earthen ceiling. It didn’t seem like she’d been followed, but where was Nan? The girl hadn’t fallen in here with her, it seemed.

 _Well_ , she thought, _at least there’s no wizzrobe. But. Nan’s up there with it, a_ _lone and defenseless._

Ruuya swallowed in fear. Nan could be dead or dying and she couldn’t get back up there and defend her charge. She couldn’t keep her safe. She couldn’t do anything. Glancing around, she quickly realized there was no way out that she could see but the distant hole in the ceiling she had fallen through. She was helpless. Useless.

For now, however, that was the least of her worries. Ruuya took a deep breath. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t have supplies. And her ankle ached something fierce, signaling it was either sprained or broken or both. She didn’t even have the proper materials to warm-

 _Wait,_ Ruuya thought, working her half-frozen fingers to open her bag. She dug through it, fumbling through the items and taking them out when she _couldn’t_ distinguish what they were by touch. In short order, she found a pair of socks, a canteen, flint, lantern oil, a green potion, a second pair of gloves, and some cut pieces of wood. The tightness in her chest eased some. She could spark Din’s Fire to light a simple fire and bite off this strange numbness and chill. _Oh bless you Nan._

Hopefully, the girl herself had made it out alive. That was all she had now, Ruuya thought as she lit a flame. A smidgen of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy-Kandra: I just love a nice cliffhanger in the mornin’, cya next time, dearies!
> 
> SmashyQ: I love how this is all coming together.


	12. A Smidgen of Hope

Vaati was content. Wrapped up in a thick, fuzzy blanket, he sat in front of his roaring fire sipping a glass of red wine. In his other hand was an open book. That silly apprentice of his had left this morning, seeking to beseech the favor of the gods. To ask for help or some sort of ridiculous thing.

Didn’t she realize the goddesses hated him? He was Vaati, terror of Hyrule, not Zelda or some sage. It wouldn’t take much to provoke their active wrath against him. It amazed him that one of the Golden Three hadn’t acted already. He had wrought terrible things upon Hyrule and its people in the past. His memories had faded or fogged over, but the figures in green, blue, red, and purple tunics were clear. Certainly he had done more than to earn a pint-sized brat for an eternal foe.

And one of the goddesses would acknowledge it, one day in the near future.

It probably wouldn’t end well.

A sudden gust of wind howled outside, rattling the shutters. Damn. It seemed like yet another snowstorm had come. If this weather didn’t quiet soon, Windfall would literally be felled by the wind and cold.

The wind pushed the shutter beside him slightly ajar. Vaati slammed it close with an angry humph.

 _Gods!_  Vaati thought, sitting back down and going back to his book.  _Can’t I read in peace?_

Since those very gods had a terrible sense of timing, someone knocked on the door. Vaati glanced in the direction of the door, but ignored it, focusing on his book. A dragon had been located at last, and attempts were being made to chip off part of its horn. Unfortunately, the adventurer was having a difficult time dodging the dragon’s ice magic, which fell from the sky as chunks of ice and hail. Vaati imagined this champion, just for a moment, as wearing a green tunic when a piece of hail struck true, freezing the hero in place.

The involuntary grin on his face was wiped off as the knock came again, this time followed by an all too familiar, and grating, voice. “If you don’t open up, Vaati,” it said, the tone brooking no argument, “I’ll reveal your secret to this whole damn village!”

Vaati cursed. What in hell was  _she_  doing here? He glanced towards the door and sneered. He would not be at that damnable woman’s beck and call. He was the Dark Lord, she the minion. Alysse needed to get that through her thick skull for once.

Quietly, and not without a little vindictiveness, he read another three pages of his novel. The narrative was a little dry, and the main character was a little on the foolish side, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

Something in the atmosphere shifted. It would be subtle to most who were sensitive, but to Vaati it was like a torch in the darkness. A radiating presence that did not dissipate. Vaati frowned.

It was magic.

Vaati got to his feet abruptly, tossing blanket and book aside in alarm. Even as he withdrew the knife from between armrest and seat cushion, possibilities flooded his head of who and why. A stranger, a threat, a would-be assassin. Nobody in the village knew magic save for his apprentice, and she could barely make potions. He strode out of his study and crossed the foyer. Taking his blade out of its sheath and holding it at the ready, Vaati threw open the front door.

Alysse stood there, a ball of Din’s Fire floating above her gloved hands, lighting up the night. The small flame cast an orange glow on the snow as it fell, making it appear as though embers were falling from the darkened sky. This was the simplest of spells, but the fact that she had learned it was concerning. Vaati frowned. Why was the fool throwing so much power into this minute spell?

“Who taught you that?” he demanded, glaring at the flame.

“I thought that might catch your attention,” she said, a smirk touching her lips. Goddesses, he hated this woman. Why couldn’t she provide straight answers like a normal person? “Unless you think your fireplace can warm the whole outdoors and chase away the cold, let’s step inside.”

“No,” he said immediately. The meddlesome woman wasn’t worth his time. Vaati quickly shoved his door closed, anticipating a satisfying slam. Instead, it hit something with a  _bang,_  rattling back open. Puzzled, he looked down. Between the door and frame was a walking stick, slightly dented. Alysse pushed it back open. In silence, she raised her eyebrows, an expression he had seen on her daughter on several occasions. Stubborn woman wouldn’t leave until she had done whatever she had come over for.

Not that Vaati would do anything less himself.

“First,” he said, “tell me where you learned that spell.”

“I found it in Flow’s notes,” she answered, shrugging a shoulder. “Along with some others.”

“Really now?” he asked. “Hmmph. She wasn’t as scatterbrained as I thought.”

That didn’t tell him when Alysse had gotten them from the Dark World or how or why. Hadn’t Ruuya claimed the woman didn’t even know she had magic? Who had revealed it to her?

 _Probably the girl_ , Vaati thought.  _Who else?_

He would have to have a talk with that unruly thief once she got back.

“So…” Alysse trailed off.

“Fine,” he said, turning around, his cape swirling slightly at the sudden movement. Vaati glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Quench that flame, woman. No need to burn the house down because you couldn’t control your own magic.”

Alysse rolled her eyes but followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. Bundled up in her long fur coat, she looked even larger than usual. She was only four months pregnant, not six. Unless she was actually lying and just getting fat.

“Don’t bother hanging up your coat,” he said as she drew back her hood, revealing that her bright orange hair was pulled back into a messy bun. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes, then I want you out.”

Alysse glared. “Your apprentice is missing."

He raised an eyebrow. What that idiot Gerudo did on her own time was no concern of his. He wasn’t her keeper. Did Alysse think he actually  _cared_ about the girl?

“And so is my daughter,” the woman added, voice tempered with anger.

Vaati turned to face her, head tilted. “And I should care...why?” he asked, narrowing his one visible eye.“You left your daughter in the hands of a simple thief who can barely read, never mind mix potions correctly. She has a habit of wandering off for too long when fetching ingredients. Did you really expect her to return on time, woman?"

She rekindled the flame. Vaati snorted derisively. Was Din’s Fire the only spell the old sow knew? “My magic may be restrained,” he said, letting out a sinister snicker. “But threatening me with  _that_  mundane spell won’t get you anywhere. It’s barely powerful enough to kill an Ice Chu, let alone a man.”

He smiled, showing off his canines a tad. She rolled her hand into fist, the flame glowing slightly larger at her command. “Unless I burn this house down,” Alysse said tersely.

“Ha! Like you could do it, fool,” he said. “You’re not the type to wrought such things on your enemies, and if this house burned down, what would the villagers say? You killed their  _god_. You and your husband would lose whatever power you hold…”

Vaati’s grin never wavered. He reveled in the complete control he held over the situation. Bringing another under his heel gave him a rush like nothing else could. Sure, it was more satisfying than toying with the desert woman, but then, that was more of a game than anything else.

“Your parlor spells and threats are nothing,” he said. “Put it away. If you want to buy-”

Another  _knock_  came at the door. By Din, couldn’t he just enjoy being evil for once?

Despite that Vaati didn’t want another guest, the woman opened the door herself. In the darkened doorway stood Nan dressed for the weather and covered in snow. Her large brown eyes shifted from Alysse, to Vaati, then back again, shock stealing the normally talkative girl’s voice.

“Nan!” Alysse cried. She wrapped her arms around the girl and held her tight. “I was so worried!”

“There,” said Vaati, “Your daughter has returned, and there is no reason for you to linger. As for that foolish girl -”

"Where's Ruuya?" Alysse asked.

“Ma, she's in trouble!” Nan said, tongue freed. “We got trapped by the sudden snowstorm and got lost in the woodsandtherewerekeeseandchusandmon-”

“Naneth,” her mother began, placing a calming hand on the girl’s arm. “Take a few deep breaths.”

The girl nodded, doing so. Slowly, she regained her composure. If one could ever call a girl like Nan composed.

Alysse gently ushered Nan away from the door, and closed it shut once again. When her breathing had evened out, her mother quietly queried again: “Where is Ruuya?”

Nan sniffled. “She fell in a hole and couldn’t get out,” she said, making a sloping gesture downwards. “She sent me to get help. I came here because I figured Lord Vaati’s an all powerful sorcerer, so he can save her! And the other guards and Captain Bazz are probably inside in weather like this and already sleeping and...”

She looked at him. Expectant. Vaati felt a sudden burst of panic. He did not have access to his magic yet, and if he couldn’t fake it, he would lose all his followers because of that fact. Ordinary humans or not, they gave him a base of power to work from. Before, he hadn’t need to worry; he could use potions to fake a few spells to a limited degree. He had plausible reasons for not openly using his power, and the former outcasts had ate up every last one. He was studying; he didn’t see reason to mess with nature; some abilities had lost their novelty. Now though, he had to convince the village’s leading chatterbox he had the ability and willpower to save a foolish woman from a fate she had brought upon herself.

The Great Sorcerer Vaati was not a charitable man. He did not do favors, he did not help the elderly, and he did not save idiots lost in storms. But between losing what little influence he had and wounding his pride, he knew which had to take a hit.

“Fetch a Red Potion and some Spicy Elixir from the shop,” he said, glancing over at Nan.

“But couldn’t you just use a warming spell to do it?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows.

Sometimes he hated how perceptive the girl was.

“For  _one_  person, yes,” he lied. She didn’t need to know that, of course. At the height of his power, he could’ve kept all three of them warm, though such a spell was still a waste of magic and wouldn’t last for more than twenty minutes before draining his magical reserves. Now, however… “It’s better to use potions than to waste magic on such cantrip spells. I will need my magic for other things than keeping you warm!”

She blinked, but nodded, jogging past him and into the shop proper. Thankfully, she remembered to close the door.

“Did she write down any light spells?” he asked immediately, keeping his voice low even though Nan was out of earshot by now. One never knew with that girl how fast she’d get back, and he had to put his plan into action quickly if he wanted it to work.

Alysse frowned. “Not that I’ve found,” she replied. “What does that matter?”

“Keeping up appearances,” he answered. His stomach flipped at the admittance. A slew of curses went through his head, none of them actually magical. “A simple spell. Rauru’s Lamp. First speak the incantation “light the way” then take an empty bottle or, better, an oil lamp, fill it with light, and trap it inside. A simple trick, but one that should work for our purposes.”

Alysse opened her mouth as though to protest, but Vaati raised his hand, halting it.

“Is it really the time for  _this_?” he asked, exasperated. “You would be a fool to go out in this weather, woman, considering how pregnant you are. More of a fool, I should say, and I will not be responsible for encouraging your reckless stubbornness. This way, we both get what we want. I get to solidify the image that I am an all-powerful sorcerer who cares for his minions...and you get to protect your _friend_." He practically spat the last word. “Is it a deal?”

She shot him another glare but nodded, finally convinced. Excellent. She was learning to be a better follower. Soon, she spoke the spell, summoning a ball of white light between thumb and forefingers then shoved it into an empty oil lamp he had grabbed from the cupboard in the kitchen. They sealed it shut with a handkerchief and a hair-tie. Almost as soon as they had finished, Nan returned, not only bearing several bottles of the orange elixir he had told her to fetch, but also his warm furred cloak, his walking staff, and a rope.

Fairly savvy, this girl. Perhaps he could wring some usefulness out of her later.

Vaati took the cloak and staff from Nan. “This will do,” he said, wrapping the cloak around his shoulders. He shoved his feet into a pair of spare boots by the door. “We have little time. You,” he pointedly stared at the girl, “drink an elixir, and lead me to wherever my petulant apprentice fell.”

Nan straightened up, and saluted. “Right!” she said.

“And you,” Vaati glanced at Alysse. “Keep my fire going. I want to come back to a warm home, not an icicle.” The old woman snorted, but nodded her assent.

“Fine by me,” she replied, “Naneth, you be careful.”

“I will!”

“Then let’s be off. This storm won’t become any better if we dawdle.”

Nan downed her potion, and stuffed the bottle into her bag. Vaati did the same, and the two of them stepped out into the storm. As soon as they did, a burst of cold wind greeted them, blasting snow and cold air past their ears. Vaati felt the force of the wind, but not its icy touch. The elixir worked well, an investment of time and resources he was glad to have spent. In his head he began counting down the minutes until the chill would finally bite through and they would need to drink another. When the enchantment wore off, he hoped he would not still be in this mess.

He shut the door behind him, and looked at Nan expectantly. She nodded and took off through the snow. It was blowing sideways.

“Come on! This way!” called Nan. Vaati snorted and followed after at a quick pace. The sooner the trip took, the sooner he could return to  _The Tales of the Water Mage of Lanayru_  and his place by the fire.

Through the village she led him, keeping within sight. The blizzard was thick, the lamp hanging from Nan’s hand barely cutting through the time or two she wandered a little too far ahead. Her voice guided when sight did not. When the wind howled and stole away her voice, she came back and led him on. The village and its lights were left behind and soon all they had were bare trees in a swirling world of white.

Vaati hadn’t left the village very often since his transition to the Light World. He had maps, he had gossips, he had offerings, and he had Ruuya to make up for it. A time or two he had gone scavenging with her to ensure she brought back exactly what he needed, but otherwise, she would report where an ingredient was and how plentiful it was in that location. They were going around Lake Hylia, he knew that much. He huffed in annoyance. He hadn’t thought Ruuya foolish enough to wander away from such an obvious path. He clearly underestimated her idiocy.

He nearly tripped over a thick stick sticking straight up out of the snow. It wasn’t much higher than a foot or so out in the air, but the suddenness of its appearance put him off balance. He side-stepped it and made a mental note to avoid it on the way back.

After a short while, a second one collided with his shoe.

“Nan!” he called out. She obediently came back to his side, breathing hard, though not as nearly as he was. Vaati pointed a finger at the offending stick. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Markers,” she replied. “I didn’t want to get lost coming back for Ruuya, so I stabbed a bunch into the ground. Did you trip over it or something?” Vaati shook his head and stabbed the end of his staff into the snow.

“No. Don’t be a fool,” he said. “I am Lord Vaati! The most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived! A mere stick will not stop me.” He gestured forward with his staff. “Now, carry on. I wish to end this quickly before the elixir wears off.”

The girl nodded eagerly. “Okay!” she said, hurrying forward to pick up the lead again. The sticks were sporadic at best, but he couldn’t deny the resourcefulness of using such common things.

The makeshift trail went up and down a few inclines in a wobbly, zig-zagging path. Once or twice Nan had to double check where another stick was, and stop Vaati where he was for a moment before continuing. The trip was already beginning to tire him, and the delays needled Vaati’s already paper-thin patience. Once his foolhardy apprentice was dragged back to the village, he was going to give her a chore list as long as Death Mountain was tall. Whatever tiny, petty thing or ridiculous job he could think of was going to be written down and given to that pathetic excuse of a sorceress in-training. Re-organizing his bookshelves, fetching some ingredient or other from the Faron region, gathering something or other from Mount Hylia, bug-hunting fireflies in the evening...

Well. Perhaps not written. Din knew he wouldn’t be able to procure that much paper in time. He would have to settle for an on-going mental list. And if he forgot something? Oh well. Things could always be shuffled around.

He had counted a little over three-quarters of the estimated time for the potion to wear off when Nan began frantically waving. He marched forward, passing through a small ruin, barely noticing the shadow of columns and colonnade in the dark and snow.

She pointed at the end of the steep incline they had arrived at.“This is it!” she said. Her voice was a little too loud, even in the den the wind was creating. “She’s down there!” Vaati took a few steps forward, squinting. Here, yet another stick was planted in the ground. On top Nan had tied a green sash, which served as a simple flag in this awful wind. The light of Rauru’s Lamp caught on a deep hole in the earth at the base of the flag. He could see no bottom. It was amazing that it was still visible despite all this snow.

Nan got on her hands and knees, and peeked into the hole. “Ruu! I’m back!” she called out. “And I brought back Lord Vaati!” She waited a moment, kneeling there, as if expecting something. Vaati waited for some snide, backhanded reply. Perhaps an exasperated response on why Nan couldn’t have gotten somebody else. Or maybe a groan and a resigned sigh.

He gripped his cloak tighter to his body as the winds briefly picked up. Goddesses, he hated this weather. The misery of winter wasn’t as amusing when he was stuck in the middle of a storm. One day soon he would have the curse binding his magic broken, and he would never again have to suffer through another storm. Nor would he ever have to suffer obstinate humans, and their ridiculous demands. Social niceties were a sham, and he would be damned before he would ever treat a measly human as an equal.

“Ruuya?” Nan asked.  
  
Vaati sighed, folding his arms and tapping his foot, his patience already tried.  
  
"Ruu?" She waited again. An echo of her voice came back, but nothing answered beside the harsh winter wind.

“Are you certain this is the right spot?” Vaati asked. “There must have been twenty other holes or so that we passed on the way here.”

Nan rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Do you think I left this here just for show?" She pointed at the marker, then with the same movement, snatched the oil lamp filled with light from his hands, shining it down into the hole below. “Is there a way to like...shine this down like a ray of sunlight or something?”

Vaati gritted his teeth.  _Yes, if I was still able to use my magic._  “No,” he answered tersely. “However…” He took a quick look around them. The only tree in sight was too thin and further off than his rope could reach while still spilling down into the hole. He held back another sneer. How he loathed having his options restricted. “If we loop the rope around my staff a few times,” he said, “and then tie it around my wrist and the lamp’s handle, we could make a makeshift pulley. Then I may see to her condition.”

Five minutes later Nan had done so following his directions, the simple 'pulley' complete. Slowly and carefully, he lowered the lamp into the hole. With a hand-length of rope to spare, the light finally shined on a bit of orange hair, the glimmer of swords barely visible beyond that. As soon as they saw this, he brought the lamp back up, sighing. Great. That was one deep hole and the rope wasn’t nearly long enough to reach the bottom, never mind tie around Ruuya’s waist and bring her up. Not that either he or the girl were strong enough to do so anyway. 

Someone somewhere was laughing at his predicament, he was sure. Probably Din. She had always been his least favorite goddess.

His pride already damaged, and his reputation and future on the line, Vaati saw only one option. “We need to go back to Windfall Village,” he announced, voice flat. “I need another pair of hands to get her out.”

Nan puckered at the news, glanced down at the hole, then up at him, then back at the hole again. After a brief moment, she slumped her shoulders in acceptance. Lifting her hands to either side of her mouth, she shouted, “Ruuya! We’ll be back in twenty minutes. We need a longer rope, I think!”

Vaati raised an eyebrow. The fool girl was wasting time. There was no way an unconscious--

“Nan?”

Vaati started at the Gerudo's voice, echoing up from the abyss.  _Not so unconscious after all_ , he thought, truly shocked for the first time in years. He dug into his bag and withdrew an orange potion with a dim, reddish glow.

“Idiot girl,” he muttered, throwing the potion into the hole. A few clanks later, it landed with a clunk. “Drink that,” he said, louder. “It will keep you warm until we return.”

“Thank you...” said the voice, dim below the roaring wind. “Could… Do you have anything to eat and drink?”

Nan frowned, her eyebrows knitting. She took off her sack, removed a few objects from it, and put them in  _his_  bag despite his complaints-

“What? Stop that, you little-!”

\- and threw her sack down into the hole. Vaati only got a glimpse, but he saw dried food, a canteen, and flint and wood for kindling flame inside of it. It hit the ground soon after, and Ruuya gave a quiet thanks, her voice only an echo of a whisper.

“I hope ya didn’t mind,” said Nan. “I took some stuff from your pantry.”

He stared in disbelief. His pantry! His food! Was he just surrounded by thieves and fools?

The flame of irritation that Vaati had held since Alysse’s intrusion upon his quiet evening, suddenly blazed. He snarled. “How dare-” he began. But his tongue stilled. The fire cooled.

Nan had turned to him, glaring. Cheeks a bright red, eyes rimmed with tears. Hands clenched into fists, white as the snow. Vaati took a step back, uncertain and startled. He hadn’t thought the energetic girl capable of anger.

Apparently, he had underestimated her.

Silently, she handed him an orange potion. The spell, he noticed, had gone out. She drink one as well.

“I…” he tried again, but he could get no further. Words failed him.

“C’mon, Vaati,” she said, waving him to follow. “Maybe Captain Bazz can help.”

In grumbling silence, he followed her back to the village. This trip was not going as he had planned. His apprentice was too weak to be saved. One of his most devote and faithful followers had stolen from him, thought nothing of it, and then rolled over his tirade before it had even begun like a particularly stubborn goron with just a look. He would need to stay in the freezing weather for far longer than he cared for to get that useless girl out of the hole she had fallen into.

And to top the evening off, he needed to pay a visit to old sharkhead. He would also be using up more elixirs than he wanted to, since the captain of the guard would undoubtedly be far more susceptible to the cold than your average human.

Vaati clenched his teeth. Though the most disturbing part of the night was not the cold nor the theft. It was not even the need for a weaker being to complete what he could not. No, it was something far more important than that.

For Nan had dropped the honorific.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy_Kandra: Was that the best idea Nan? You might get in trouble...
> 
> SmashQ: This chapter ended up being a little too long, so it's been split. Vaati just can't catch a break, can he?


	13. Fire of Life

Bazz relaxed in the soothing warm waters of his sleeping quarters. It wasn’t quite as deep as he would have liked, but it was comfortable. It was better than wrapping himself in thick, stuffy, and suffocating blankets, and the once bothersome crackling of burning wood was nothing more than background noise these days.

Times had changed since he was knee high. Again they changed when the Calamity was released, and again when it was defeated. And again they changed when the prince became king and the Zora were faced once again with crisis anew that they could not fight against, eventually leading him to become lost in the Dark World long ago. Sidon and all the Zora he had known had perished in the long centuries which had passed in the World of Light while only a little over a hundred years had gone by for him. Yet life went on as it always did.

Life, he mused, was a current. Sometimes it was gentle and allowed freedom of what to do. Other times it was as perilous as a thunderstorm with no safety in sight, save for the company of others.

He simply had to adapt and face whatever the world handed him next.

And unfortunately, right when he had finally began to relax, the world intruded, knocking loudly on his front door. And at this hour of night...! Who else in their right mind would bother him this late?

A voice cried out from the dark and cold outdoors. Inwardly, Bazz sighed.

“Cap! Hey Cap, are ya awake!?” It was Nan, the new recruit. A kid who, despite her youth and shocking naivety, was generally the responsible type. “Please open up, we need your help!”

Startled to his feet, he splashed water all over the floor of his bed chamber making a mess on the tiles. A problem for later. Bazz grabbed his tunic off the hook and slung it over his head, an item he only wore in the worse of winter's chill, and stepped into the main room of his small cottage.

Nan was already inside. He huffed at this. It seemed the Gerudo had taught her how to pick locks. Typical. “Don’t lockpick the doors of bachelor officers, Nan,” he chided. “You can’t know what state of undress they might be in, or worse, what they might be doing.”

Nan blushed, turning aside briefly. Anytime was the perfect time for discipline, and Nan needed to develop respectful habits if she ever hoped to become a full-fledged knight someday. Though she was still quite far from that, really.

“What happened?” he asked, moving to the topic at hand.

Nan stood straighter, all embarrassment gone, replaced by a shockingly determined expression. Inwardly he smiled at her quick ability to regain her composure, but kept his face stern. It had taken her six months to get this far. “Ruuya and I got trapped in the blizzard – she wanted to give some sort of sacrifice to some goddess…”

“Din?” But her education in some areas was notably lacking. How had Lady Alysse let such a thing slip? Nan didn’t even know the most base things about religion and mythology!

Nan nodded. “I went with her because the roads are perilous to travel alone.”

Bazz crossed his arms, his lip quirking slightly upwards on one side. That was clearly an excuse. “Did she bring cookies?” he asked.

Nan gasped slightly, then covered her mouth with her hands. Internally, he sighed. Perhaps he had been too proud of her composure earlier.

“Led by your sweet tooth again, I see. Ha!” He cracked a crooked smile. “...I suppose you’re not alone in that regard. When I was your age, the Bazz Brigade would always sneak some Chu Jelly Rolls whenever my mother baked them for the goddess Nayru. She must have known--”

“Do you always have to be so sentimental, Captain Bazz?” demanded a new and very annoyed voice from behind Nan. Its owner, Vaati, stepped into the house a moment later, leaving the door wide open and letting in the wind and winter chill. Snowflakes swirled around him and his cloak swished in his wake, all amounting to a properly melodramatic entrance befitting the Lord of Windfall. Bazz, however, just rolled his eyes. “My apprentice is stuck,” Vaati continued, tersely. “She was a fool and got trapped in a blizzard before falling down a hole. We came here because we need more rope.”

“Rope,” the old Zora repeated mildly. He couldn’t have heard right. “Rope? You’re a Wind Mage! Certainly you could compose some spell and lift her out of--”

Vaati raised a hand. “That’s not how magic works, you foolish child.” Bazz flattened his lips. He was far from being a child, even when compared to the terribly ancient Wind Mage. “Even the most terrible wind spell is useless for such a delicate rescue. What? Do you think a tornado could lift her out without tearing her to shreds?”

Bazz fought to keep his expression neutral. He had lived through some utterly bizarre and surreal events. A wind sorcerer not using his magic didn’t even rate in the top five.

“Flow often used threads of air to move things,” he offered. Far be it from him to tell a wizard how to use his magic. If he did that, Vaati might turn him into a sharkman again. He was tired of being a shark, he had been one for over a century in the Dark World.

Vaati let out a scoffing huff. “Air threads move light things over short distances. It would take too many threads and too much magic sustained over a long period of time to lift her out.” A single fang poked out of his mouth in a grimace. “It would not be possible to extract her in time. Aside from that, it would be foolish to use that spell here.”

Why, of course, he didn’t explain. Powerful mages, it seemed, were loath to give explanations on exactly how their magic worked to outsiders. They were even loath to do so to other mages who were not their apprentices. It was as though they feared an explanation would somehow stifle their power, or tarnish their image.

Much to Bazz’s surprise, however, Vaati continued to ramble and explain.

“Worse, if I did so, I would be so terribly drained from it…” Vaati paused then shook his head. “Each spell takes a lump of your magical reserves and each time you perform the air thread spell it sucks at them as long as you sustain the spell. And each thread is dependent on one casting of the spell. It’s one of those spells which requires you to continue to fuel it with power to keep it going, of course, much like Nayru’s Love. But even a pitiful mage such as yourself should know that.” The Savior of Windfall grinned, both fangs peeking out.

Bazz nodded, keeping himself stilled despite the anger he felt rising within. Vaati’s pompousness had always irked him. For such a heroic figure, the ancient mage had less modesty than a Goron asleep in a hot spring.

“Ah, I see,” he said instead. “Then I’ll fetch my cloak.”

“And more rope!” Vaati repeated.

Bazz rolled his eyes, retrieving rope, cloak, and spear. He grabbed the bow and quiver beside the door as well, then rejoined them in the main room. “Let’s hurry then.”

“Here Cap,” said Nan, pulling out a bottle of light orange potion. “Haveta drink this to keep warm.”

He took the proffered drink, and the three stepped out into the wintry night. The trek, led by the ever resourceful Nan, was surprisingly uneventful. No keese came, no wizzrobes. There was not even the howl of wolfos in the night. Instead, the clouds had retreated, full moon and the pinpricks of stars lighting their way, though the air was still chill with a light snowfall. His mother had always said the Goddess of Wisdom watched out for her followers and fools on nights like these, for both fools and the wise were simply different sides of the same medallion, and most people, he had found, were both.

They came at last to a low peak topped with the telltale signs of some old ruins: cobblestone walkways barely peeking out under the snow, elegant colonnades speckling the ground, and a few larger columns topped with swirls and foreign beasts. He couldn’t guess how old these were, of course. They could have been older than him or younger. He had been inside the Dark World for decades, after all, and centuries had passed in the World of Light. But instead of stopping in the ruins proper, they passed beyond, going northeast until they came to a small branch sticking out of the ground. A sash of forest green had been tied around the top, a makeshift flag to mark the spot.

Bazz arrived at it first, his longer legs and taller frame having carried him ahead of the others once he had spotted the marker. Vaati huffed, leaning heavily on his staff, the lantern filled with light still in his hands. Nan brought up the rear, keeping watch for any creatures that might attack them in the long, dark night. Still, the first hint of day could now barely be seen on the horizon, only a slender red line in the east.

“This is it?” Bazz asked.

“Yup,” Nan said, catching up to him. She panted slightly. “I know you’ve got old eyes, Captain Bazz. Not that--”

“Nan.”

“--great for seeing in the dark,” she said, letting her tongue run free. No restraint, this girl. He covered his eyes with his free hand. “The hole’s over here.” She pointed a little further from the marker at dark, flattened snow.

This time he did sigh. His eyes were not _that_ bad. Still, he squinted in the frail winter twilight, his eyes having followed where the child had pointed. Admittedly, it took them a moment to adjust, and it wasn’t until Vaati arrived with his strange light that he actually saw more than a hint of the pit.

“How deep is it?” he asked, bending down beside the hole, his head dangling over the top. “I can’t see the bottom even with your light, Lord Vaati.”

“Deeper than twelve feet at least,” Vaati said. Nan flinched at this, no doubt scared for her friend’s safety. “That foolish girl’s lucky to have survived the fall.”

Bazz looked up at this, surprised to hear even the slightest hint of concern in the voice of the ancient mage. Though perhaps he was mistaken. It was probably just an act for Nan’s sake.

“Yes. We’ll want a sturdy branch to bear her weight…” Bazz said, climbing to his feet while leaning on his spear. His legs and back protested slightly at this action; they didn’t like being in such a cramped position anymore. Nan opened her mouth to make a comment, but Bazz gave her a stern look. “I'll go and retrieve it, I want you...and, if he’s willing, Lord Vaati, to test how far this pit goes…”

With that, he headed down to the small grove of trees at the base of the ruins, ignoring the damn mage’s protests. Vaati no doubt hated being told what to do, but Bazz needed a breath of fresh air after dealing with the ancient mage for the better part of two hours. Quickly, he found a suitable branch that had been knocked off a strong oak tree in last night’s snowstorm. He dusted it off, and carried it back up to where he had left the others. Age had not weakened him that much yet, he was as fit as he had been when he had fallen into the Dark World protecting King Sidon...he shook his head. Enough of that. He would be back with the other two shortly, he could reminiscence later.

As he grew closer to where he left the grumpy mage and new recruit, he caught wind of a strange conversation.

“Be glad this rope is not an _actual_ rope, child,” shouted Vaati, crouching down in front of the pit. Much to Bazz’s surprise, he was alone. Where was Nan?

Oh Great Vah Ruta, no.

Bazz sprinted the rest of the way, joining Vaati beside the hole. The old mage looked up, grinning slightly, his fangs peeking out from under his lips. “You were taking so _long_ , Bazz,” he said. “The rope’s more than long enough. Nan decided to hop down and tie the rope around Ruuya’s waist. She thought my staff sturdy enough to carry her own weight as she descended. Children these days. They’re so... _very_ impulsive.”

Said staff was wilting slightly in the middle, straining under the girl’s weight. “At your suggestion, no doubt,” Bazz said.

To this, Vaati shrugged. “You have no proof of that, captain. Probably needs some discipline, that foolish girl. Make sure you carry it out.”

 _What is this truly about?_ he wondered. Still, Bazz found himself nodding his head. He didn’t like the idea, but Vaati was still his liege and would make sure that the villagers questioned his abilities and authority if Bazz didn’t do as Vaati pleased. The mage could certainly be a conniving snake.

“Of course,” Bazz said.

“I’ve found her, Vaati!” Nan called.

Bazz gasped. Nan had dropped the old mage’s honorific in public? What was that girl thinking? No wonder she had provoked Vaati to anger. His ego was a buttress for his anger, a strong fort to defend the angry mage hidden within. Tear those walls down, and all he had left was his wrath, his fury. The fire that lurked inside.

Once again, subtle Nan was not. Bazz needed to have a talk with her later, at the very least. He hated to admit it, but Vaati had a point. Respecting those in authority was important, no matter how much you disliked them...most of the time.

“Is Cap back?” Nan called up.

“Indeed,” Bazz answered, his voice ricocheting down the earthen walls of the pit. He could just see Nan’s lamp in the darkness below, a pinpoint of light. “Tie the rope securely around Ruuya’s waist, Nan. Then we’ll pull her up and throw it back down. You’ll have to be _patient_ , this time.”

For a moment, no answer came. Then the murmuring of voices drifted up, and tension Bazz hadn’t been aware of was released from his shoulders. He paid them little mind, and instead went to work on untying the rope from the staff. He then spun it around the thick branch and tied one end to his own waist. The makeshift pulley system would have to work. He just hoped he had enough strength to bring up both young women.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yep!” Nan waved, the pinprick of light moving from side to side. “Cya in a bit, Cap!”

Bazz planted his feet into the snow and spread them apart, grimacing. He mentally asked Nayru for extra strength to pull off this feat. Returning to the village without either of the girls was unacceptable.

“Alright,” he said. “Here we go!” He leaned back, putting his weight into lugging up Ruuya. It was rather smooth all things considered. Certainly easier than it would be to haul up Nan. The thought did not comfort him in the slightest.

In almost no time at all, Ruuya’s head and shoulders peaked over the edge of the hole. Bazz edged forward, carefully keeping the length of rope from slipping back down. Once close enough, he placed one foot on the rope to keep it still, bent down, and slipped his hands under her arms and hoisted her the rest of the way up.

Eyes wide and stifling a gasp, Ruuya shivered in the cold, her skin having turned a pale shade of grey-brown, her lips chapped and discolored. The sleeves of her coat hung uselessly, stiff with ice and snow, her arms hugging her body for warmth. Almost as soon as she was standing beside them, Ruuya nearly collapsed, but Bazz caught her, holding her as still as he could.

“You,” Bazz said, glaring at Vaati. “Lord Vaati. Untie this rope.”

“You imbecile,” Vaati growled, fangs showing. “What do you think--”

“Do it,” he said sternly. As a tart afterthought, he added: “my lord. Unless you want to explain to Alysse why you left her daughter down in a hole.”

That last bit seemed to be the right thing to say. Vaati glared, the look in his eyes promising unpleasant things under different circumstances. “Fine!” he spat. “If only to get out of this miserable weather sooner!” He made quick work of the knot, then Bazz took it and threw it back down into the pit.

“Let her lean on you for a moment,” he said, finally letting Ruuya go. He needed to concentrate on getting Nan out for now. He couldn’t help both her and that poor Gerudo alone. Hopefully Vaati would do as he asked.

“Ugh,” Vaati said from behind. “Not only did you cost me a good night’s rest, you also cost me my cloak.”

“Thank you,” Ruuya half-muttered. Bazz was surprised she had any strength left to speak.

“You humans are truly tenuous things,” said Vaati. “You are the most annoying woman I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Honestly, what were you thinking? This storm has been a nuisance even to me, and you decide to go traipsing off the obvious path across the lake!”

Bazz grunted under the strain as he continued to hoist Nan up to safety. A part of him found it amazing that Vaati could say such things to someone in Ruuya’s state. Then again, Vaati had the tact of a moblin.

“Why would you do that?” Vaati continued. “You’re a thief who refuses to listen to reason, and now, here you are, frozen from your head to your toes.”

“Sorry,” Ruuya muttered. Bazz continue to work, grimacing in effort and at Vaati’s tactless insults. Nan was certainly heavier than he had expected. Dear Nayru. Perhaps the only discipline she needed was a strict, cookie-less diet.

“Do you realize how disastrous this evening has been? I had Alysse pounding at my door! Alysse! That woman is about as stubborn as you are about _everything_ , except she’s _worse_.” The exasperation at that last word was palpable. “Then her child runs in, blathering on about keese and wizzrobes, and suddenly I’m out here, in the cold, instead of resting my feet by the fire. All to find out our _rope_ isn’t long enough! The nerve of it. Perhaps I should turn it into a snake!”

At long last Bazz pulled Nan up, the girl pulling herself out of the pit as soon as she reached the edge, saving him the trouble. He was grateful for that. The whole experience had served to remind him that he wasn’t exactly a young Zora anymore. He would certainly be feeling this in the morning.

“Thanks!” Nan said, giving him a hug, forgetting all about things like ranks and protocol. It was terribly improper for a recruit to embrace their superior officer. But Bazz found he was too tired to care. Nan was still just a child after all, and this had been a harrowing night, even if he had only been involved in part of it.

“And then I had to retrieve Captain Bazz, that sentimental shark--”

“I can see that, Vaati. Bazz is the only Zora in hundreds of miles. It’s hard to miss,” Ruuya replied, glancing over at Bazz and Nan who were starting to make their way over to join them. “I won’t do this again, I promise.”

“You promise?” Vaati laughed, then grumbled something unintelligible. “You obviously can’t keep yourself in check! Once we get back to Windfall, you are going to stay at Alysse’s home until you no longer resemble a damned tropical bluegill. If you sneak out just once, I will ban you from those sweet rolls you love so much. You will never make a potion again. You’ll never search for herbs. You will never even see another book. You will _wish_ you stayed in that damned pit! Am I making myself clear, girl? How dare you inconvenience me like this!”

“Lord Vaati,” Bazz said, stepping forward. “I think she gets the point.”

Ruuya nodded at him gratefully, falling silent once again. The sudden burst of energy she had displayed earlier was gon. She wilted, then slumped to her knees, almost dragging Vaati down into the snow with her. Bazz strung one of her arms over his shoulders and grabbed his spear from his back, leaning on it for support.

“This is _bad_ ,” he said, gesturing at Ruuya with his spear. He then looked over at Vaati. “We need to get back. Now. You can yell at her all you want later, my lord. It wouldn’t do for her to die of hypothermia out here.”

“Die?” Nan asked, her eyes round with shock. “But we saved her!”

“Come on,” he said, refusing to explain further. There wasn’t much time left, though the fact that Ruuya was both conscious and alert was a good sign. Those spicy elixirs were truly amazing drinks, but even warming potions couldn't fight off the cold forever... “I’ll need your help, Nan. Take her other arm.”

And with that, four weary figures left the ruins west of Windfall, tired, worn out, but very much alive. Or so Bazz hoped, he could only pray to Nayru that they hadn’t been too late to save this young Gerudo. His parents, he thought, would have found it bemusing that their wayward son had finally found an ounce of faith.

It had only taken a dip in the Dark World to change him.

/-/

All Vaati wanted was warmth. Warm food for his belly, warm drink for his hands, and a bucket of lava to burn his toes on until he forgot, exactly, what cold felt like. Perhaps that last one was a bit extreme, but he was getting damned tired of this stupid wintry waste land, and even coming home did not absolve his troubles.  
  
No, it only served to inflame them. Yes, his house was warm, someone had wisely kept the fire going all through the night and into the morn, so that his house was warm when he returned from his heroic rescue mission, but that someone was, indeed, the last person he wanted to see. Especially considering the state of the person he had rescued through his own guile and cunning, Nan and that Zora had only lended a hand.

“What have you done?” asked Alysse, emerging from the kitchen with arm fulls of canteens in her hands. She glanced from the white-faced Nan, to Vaati, then to the shivering Bazz, then her gaze settled on Ruuya. “What have you done, Vaati?”

“It’s so hot,” Ruuya muttered, only a slit of amber eyes peering out below her thick eyelashes. Vaati nearly jumped. He had thought his apprentice had lost conscious a half-hour ago, even with extra bottles of spicy elixir inside of her. That potion could only do so much. “It’s so hot… I’ve gotta take off these clothes...they’re so warm…too warm...oh gods...”

“Hot?” Nan asked, raising her eyebrows. “How can you be hot? Your skin’s freezing… Ma?”

“It’s bad, Lady Alysse,” Bazz managed to say despite that he was still shivering himself. How the Zora managed to speak so clearly, Vaati could not fathom. Then again, Zora were the only race he had ever heard of who could survive being frozen alive for years. Fish were strange like that. “We managed to get her out of that pit, but...I don’t think there is much that can be done. If only they had thought to get me…”

The Zora sighed, leaning heavily on his spear, exhaustion and chill having sapped most of his strength. Perhaps picking a centuries old man to lead the townguard had been the _wrong_ decision, after all. Experience, at the moment, didn't seem to amount to much.

“Pardon me,” he continued, “I...I think I need to sit down…”

That was when he nearly fell over himself. Vaati rolled his eyes, propping up both Gerudo and Zora with a grunt, and a sudden burst of strength. Neither even bothered to mutter a “thank you, my lord”, however. Ungrateful bastards.

“You won’t _see_ the miracle I pull if you die here too, you fool,” Vaati said. “Girl-- _Nan_ \--help this idiot over to the fire then bring us some spicy elixir, she’ll need it. And you--” he nodded at Alysse, the woman had the indecency to grumble something under her breath, though Vaati didn’t hear it -- “help me with her. You'll need my aid if you want her to live...”

Alysse nodded, disappearing momentarily into the hallway which led to the two spare bedrooms, then returned, having discarded the canteens within one of the guest rooms. Quickly, they maneuvered the Gerudo into the closest room, laying her on top of the feathered bed, covered in wool sheets. Surprisingly, a fire roared in the small fireplace, candles had been lit, and a few bottles of elixir sat on the nightstand beside the bed. A pile of fallen books laid on the floor in front of it. At a second glance, he recognized one, it was a book he’d been missing for _weeks_.

“Help me with these canteens,” she said, taking up one of the canteens that she had discarded in the near the door. His eyes, however, lingered on something far more important beside them: his blankets. “Vaati.”

“You do not get to boss me around woman,” he said curtly.

She rolled her eyes. “ _Please_ , Lord Vaati.”

He glared, but mockery of piety was the only thing he could expect from this woman. They placed the canteens at the foot of the bed. “Those are _my_ blankets.”

She glanced over at the blankets, then nodded, shrugging a shoulder. “They are the warmest blankets in this house,” she replied. “All you had in here were a few thin sheets--”

“Good enough for an apprentice.” He doubted his own master had given him better, though he couldn't recall, really.

“--so I took these from your bedroom. You have _plenty_ to spare,” she said, her hand resting on the Gerudo. “Her clothes are damp.”

“Of course, the snow and ice melted and…” he stopped, then nodded, catching the hint. “You’ll need to remove them, I’ll be outside.”

As if on cue, Alysse sighed, then Vaati stepped out of the room for a few moments before Alysse told him he could return. Removing Ruuya’s clothes was an amazingly quick affair despite that she had been buried beneath layers of garments. Alysse had discarded these in a pile at the foot of the bed and had redressed the Gerudo in a fresh tunic and trousers, placing warm canteens under the Gerudo’s armpits and between her legs. Another pair laid on her chest. What Vaati could still see of the Gerudo’s skin had lost its warm hue, the rich brown color having faded to a dull, greyish shade. He noted that neither feet or hands were covered, but some of the Gerudo’s toes had turned _black_ and her fingers…

“You’ve done this before?”

“My elder daughter...” she began, then shook her head. “It didn’t work that time. We tried, but…”

“This time,” Vaati said, “you have magic.”

For a moment, she regarded him with her cold, blue eyes. He expected some jib or snark, instead she did neither. “I haven’t learned any healing spells, Lord Vaati,” she said. Much to his surprise, her tone did not carry a hint of its normal venom. “Flow didn’t leave me any.”

That was quite typical. Many mages hated passing on their knowledge in written form. Magic wasn’t a science, they often thought, it was more of an art, a journey of self-discovery. One could have a master, but learning from a text…? That flew in the face of _tradition_! Even the best books were often more intuitive than descriptive. One learned spells not from texts, but from the basics that his teacher had taught or he had fathomed, not because someone had described how magic worked. If they did that, magic _wasn’t_ magic anymore! Vaati had always thought these traditions foolish, but he hadn’t bothered to fix it, either.

“You won’t need to,” he replied. “Regardless, they wouldn’t help. Her core body temperature is too cold. Yout must warm her central organs first. Place your hands on her skin and speak the incarnation for Din’s Fire, but _hold_ back the magic. All spells can be released slowly. Do not let it rush forth in a ball of flame, but picture it as a slower trinkle of warmth, spreading from your hands into her organs, her blood...”

Alysse nodded, slipping her hands under the Gerudo’s blouse. Vaati felt her gather the magic, bringing it to her fingertips, and slowly release it, magic and heat entering the young Gerudo woman’s body at a slow rate.

 _Too slow,_ he thought.

“Send a bit more heat, but not too much,” Vaati said, lifting a hand to his chin. Even though he could not use his own magic, he could sense the amount of power she summoned. Alysse gave him only a brief nod, concentrating on the spell. “Be careful to keep it concentrated to the upper part of her body, there...there…yes. That’s a good flow for now. Wait on my command, woman.”

Nearly an hour passed in this fashion, Vaati directing Alysse when to increase the flow or decrease it, nudging her spellwork along with only his magical senses to guide him. Warming a body suffering from a bad case of hypothermia was a careful and precise form of magic though it relied on a simple spell. He had done it a hundreds of times himself when a valuable minion fell due to the cold in the Hebra Mountains in the Dark World, but this was one of the only times he had guided another and the others had far more experience… He was _proud_ of what _he_ had accomplished here today.

Soon, the Gerudo stirred, her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, but then they closed once more as she fell into a deep sleep. Her skin had also regained some of its former luster. These were both good signs.

“Ebb the spell back slowly. If you draw the heat away to quick, it will send her into shock,” he said. “We’ll need to replace the canteens and make her drink spicy elixirs every twenty minutes for the next day or so, but she ought to live. And she better find me more summerwings and warm darners once she gets better.”

“And these toes?” the woman asked, motioning to the blackened appendages.

“Can be removed in a few weeks. We’ll want to hire an experienced surgeon to amputate them,” he said. “She won’t be walking anytime soon regardless. Now, get out of here, woman, and get some sleep. Nan can take care of this type of thing.”

It was a strange thing, but after replacing the lukewarm canteens with a pair of new warms one and covering the girl with a few warm blankets, the woman left without another word or even a complaint. Of course drawing forth magic like that would completely exhaust anyone, no matter their level of power or the size of their magical reservoir.

Still, at the very least, _this_ exercise had proven his theory. Vaati took the seat beside the bed, reclined back in his chair, and placed his feet at the edge of the mattress. Then he cracked open one of the stolen books, turning to one of his favorite tales: the story of when the Hero of Time first met his mentor long ago, and hurled a deku nut at old Kaepora...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazzy-Kandra: Bazz has been in the Dark World about 550-560 years. The Calamity happened around 600 years prior to the story, give or take a decade, Ruuya has certain facts missed up because her education is lacking in certain areas... Time, however, passes about five-times slower in the Dark World; thus, only 110-ish years have passed for Bazz (and like all denizens of the DW he had the other aforementioned side effects in chapter 4)... Many of the villagers have suffered something similar, but most of them fell in after Bazz did (except for Flow who had been there for a very, very long time), and eventually, they all congregated into the Village of Outcasts. I figured it might be somewhat confusing, so, there you go.


	14. Interlude 2: Books and Spears

“Today sucks,” Ruuya announced, coming out of the makeshift stables.

Like the rest of the ‘buildings’ used by her sisters, these were made from richly colored fabric and held up by wooden poles. The paddocks themselves were open on the side, yet still had a roof to block out the worst of the midday sun. Even with the open air flowing through the makeshift stable, she stunk. Everything stunk. She spent most of the day cleaning up the stables, and despite that she loved her horse, she kinda hated her too.  
  
“Jamila sucks,” she said. At least the air out here smelled more of sand than it did manure. Still, she couldn’t get that _stink_ out of clothes and hair. Someone nearby struck metal. Scraped it. She almost felt bad for them. They had to smell her, too. “The sand sucks. The sun sucks. Everything sucks. Gods! I hate this!”

“Uh-huh.” The lazy scraping of metal against wood followed unabated. Oh shit, it was Veil. Ruuya nearly ran off to seek some perfume. By the Goddess of Sand’s fourth earring, why did her beloved have to be out here? “That’s a _lovely_ new perfume you’ve used today, apricot.”

It was too late, it seemed. Ruuya sighed, looking down at Veil. The woman sat on a stool with her spear on her lap and a knife in her hand. She worked at the spear with a fierce urgently, carving something into the dark wood.

“Why are you doing that, honey?” Ruuya asked. If Veil could use a silly term of endearment, she could too. After all, no one was more petty than a petty thief.

“Cutting the Hylian word for ‘apple’ into my spear,” Veil answered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Why?” She sat down in the sand next to Veil, legs bent and digging her toes beneath the desert sand slightly. Sure it was rough, but it felt a bit better than the grime and ick that still covered her feet. She would have to sneak in a sponge bath later, but for now, she was too tired to go down to the water hole.

Veil would just have to suffer her new ‘perfume’ for a few moments more. After all, the dolt had decided to wait out here for her as she cleaned the stables. So strange, so adorable. Ruuya actually quite appreciate the gesture, even if she had to put up with Veil’s sarcastic remarks about her smell.

“Why not?” Veil rebutted. “You always hear about weird people giving weird names to their weapons. Mine are going to be weird, too. So, if I ever lose this spear anyone who sees it will go: “whoa, this is a strange thing to name a spear. It must belong to a Hylian and definitely not a Gerudo who’s going to steal my stuff when my back’s turned”. It’s the perfect plan.”

Ruuya snorted in laughter. “You’re so weird.”

“ _You’re_ weird,” Veil retorted, raising a finger.

“ _You’re_ weird!”

“No, you are!”

“You’re weirder!”

“Nah-uh, you are,” Veil said. “You’re a Gerudo that _likes to read_ tomes as big as a house!”

“So?” she said. “I don’t name my weapons after fruit.”

“Well, _I_ don’t carve my name into book covers.”

“ _The Heart of a Monster_ was stolen three times!” she said, gesturing dramatically with her hands.

“And if it is stolen a fourth time, let me know so I can avoid getting vomit thrown at me after you get revenge,” she said, then added in a conspicuous tone: “Sosa’s disgusting. Who does things like that?”

“I...I didn’t expect Sosa to come look for you,” Ruuya replied, feeling a bit panicked. “It...it was one time!”

Veil chuckled, placing the finishing touches into the name of the spear. She had added the word ‘pie’ at the end. Dear gods. “And I’ll never let you live it down.”

“Apple Pie? That’s worse than just _apple_ ,” Ruuya said. Veil chuckled, regaining her feet. “You’re so w--”

Veil kissed her on the lips, short, sweet, but intense. Warmth rose to Ruuya’s cheeks, but by the gods, she was so lucky to be loved by such a beautiful woman. Muscular, slim, a few inches taller than the average Gerudo, Veil was everything she had ever wanted in a partner.

“Love ya,” Veil said, a smile touching her lips. “Even if you _are_ a weird bookworm.”

Ruuya sighed, rolling her eyes. “Back at you, even if you _are_ an idiot.”

Veil laughed, warm and bright as the desert sun. “Someone has to keep you grounded, Ruu,” she said, placing her arm around Ruuya’s shoulders. “And that someone has gotta be me.”

Ruuya nodded, happy indeed.


End file.
